Primoris Filius
by Rae666
Summary: Everything has a story every scar, every tear, every weapon, every amulet... So when the boys come across a new hunt with a familiar M.O. a valuable piece of jewellery might be needed to protect an innocent life once again. Past&Present Dean's Amulet
1. Back in the Picture

.-.-.-.** Primoris Filius**.-.-.-.

Summary: Everything has a story - every scar, every tear, every weapon, every amulet... So when the boys come across a new hunt with a familar M.O. a valuable piece of jewellry might be needed to protect an innocent life once again. Takes place in both the present and the past... Deancentric (when aren't my stories?)

Disclaimer: You really want to upset me by making me remind myself YET AGAIN that I don't own them? 'Cause that's just cruel… that's gotta be the cruellest part about writing fanfictions – that we're constantly made to remind ourselves that the Winchester aren't ours and that we're only 'borrowing them'… doesn't mean I have to play nicely with them though – You'll get 'em back Kripke, can't say in how many pieces though.

Warnings: Typical bad language that you expect from the Winchesters, particularly Dean… Decided to set this after Season 2 but before Season 3… guess I wanted that extra angst factor!!!

Hello! I've got a new story in the works – yey! Can't say for certain when I'll update this one again but I thought I'd throw up the first chapter up seen as Death Markers is drawing to a close. I dunno, I think I'm torturing myself. I guess this chapter is really just a teaser for now.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

1. Back in the Picture

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_Ring... Ring... Ring…_

"_Hello?"_

"_Is this John Winchester?"_

"_That depends on who's asking."_

"_The names Patrick, Patrick Halloway."_

"_Well Patrick, that doesn't exactly tell me much."_

"_Please… I've been working a job and I believe you might be able to help me."_

"_What kind of job would that be?"_

"_The kind that requires your special expertise, the expertise of a demon hunter."_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

It had been a hell of a long month for the Winchester brothers. One hell of a long month that included several hell gate demons (that liked to torture, maim and kill and found extreme pleasure in taunting the Winchesters), two very pissed off poltergeists (who particularly liked throwing hunters into dangerous and hard objects) and one wacky old woman (who was completely and utterly mad about Sam, after he'd rescued her from a stray dog, and was just trying to figure out how to adopt the 23 year old before he and Dean quickly slipped out the back door and drove non stop to the next town's motel). There was also the little matter of Sam coming back from the dead and Dean selling his soul for him… but hey… why should that slow them down?

So after the one hell of a long month that they'd just been through, which they still had several scars and bruises from, they felt they deserved some downtime. A week's rest… half a week… a couple of days away from hunting and pain and hospital so they could be ready for the next fight, the next ghost or even the next hell gate demon that came along. But no rest for the wicked and man, did that Dean Winchester have a wicked tongue at times, wicked and particularly pleasing…

Dean yawned as he looked down at the cup of coffee he'd been nursing for the past half hour. It was murky but smelled like it was just what he needed, he could just make out his distorted reflection in the dark brown liquid and watched as the ripples swirled after he'd taken a quick sip – delicious.

He looked up and across the diner, eye's falling on the bathroom door that Sam had disappeared behind several minutes before. If he didn't hurry up then he'd miss his chance to order and Dean would make sure to order the greasiest, most salty breakfast that the place had to offer.

Dean managed another yawn and another sip of coffee before a waitress approached him with a sweet smile and a morning spring in her step, far too cheerful for that time of day. Even with her pretty shimmering brown hair, Dean couldn't help take an instant dislike to her, or maybe that was just because he felt like he'd been dragged across a hundred miles of woodland.

"Morning hun, you feel like ordering anything to eat yet?" She asked pleasantly, eyes lighting up as they looked Dean over a couple of times, liking what they saw.

"I should wait for my brother…" He started but after another glance at the unmoving bathroom door he shrugged and plastered a smile on his face, noting the blush that began to appear on her cheeks, "You know what, bring us both a full breakfast and I'll eat whatever he leaves."

"Coming right up." She jotted down the order and moved back towards the counter, swaying her hips as she went. Okay, maybe she wasn't that bad. So she was a morning person, big deal… she had one damn sexy ass.

From the corner of his eye, Dean saw the bathroom door open and tore his eyes away from the waitress to stare at his brother. With thunder in his eyes, Sam made his way across the diner and back to the table. He practically threw himself onto the seat, picking up his cup and taking a quick swig of coffee.

"What's up with you?" Dean immediately asked, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

"You know this 'vacation'? This break from hunting while we get ourselves back together?" He asked heatedly and Dean hated where he was going with this.

"What about it?"

"We picked the wrong town to stop in. Seriously, are we cursed? Did Dad get on the wrong side of a witch and did she curse our family? No one has this much bad luck."

"It's all those mirrors you smashed." Dean joked, waiting for Sam to continue.

"Well whatever it is, it's amazing the things you can hear in a diner bathroom. One of the waitresses called in sick, too upset to come to work. Turns out her son was found dead yesterday, only he isn't the first death around here lately and I didn't hear any details but he didn't exactly die of natural causes."

Dean grunted and pushed his coffee away from him, "Oh, great. Come on then, what else did you hear? How many others?"

"Two more that I know of. What you think?"

"God knows. Guess we better check it out. Who knows, might turn out to be a serial killer and we can just leave it to the half assed local cops. But when does that ever happen? Looks like we're doing research."

"Research?" The waitress from before asked, placing a plate full of deliciously greasy and salty breakfast foods in front of each brother, "You guys don't look like scientists."

"Journalists." Sam answered automatically, smiling politely.

"Oh. So you're here about the murders?" She bit her lip as she spoke, nervous habit.

"Well not initially."

"I guess when a story like this crops up you just gotta take it though? I mean, the way those poor guys were killed."

"So you know what happened?"

"I've heard some rumours. Don't know how far true they are, I mean some people are saying that whoever killed them tore out both their hearts and eyes. But that's not possible right?" The way she asked the question was as if she was asking for reassurance that the rumours couldn't be true, how could it? Not for a small town waitress.

"Hearts and eyes?" Dean repeated, forcing the words around the sudden lump that had formed in his throat.

"Yep, clean out. Some people say the killer took 'em as souvenirs. How gross is that?" The waitress went on, "I mean it's the talk of the town at the moment. Nothing ever happens here… and now murders. You can understand the whispers."

"Yeah…" Dean nodded numbly, eyes falling onto the plate of food in front of him and he couldn't think of time he'd felt less like eating.

"Natalie! Leave the customers alone and get back to your job!" Came a bark like voice from behind the counting and the waitress jumped, spinning round and sending a grin towards her boss as she moved onto the next order.

"Dean?" Sam narrowed his eyes at his brother's behaviour, "You okay?"

"'Course I am Sam." Dean answered, plastering on a fake smile that didn't reach his eyes, and looked up at Sam.

"I'm guessing hearts and eyes ring a bell? You dealt with something like this before?"

"Probably isn't even the same thing I'm thinking of." Dean shrugged and picked up his fork, silently prodding at his food and signalling the end of the conversation.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

"_Alright, you got my attention. How about you give me some more details?"_

"_Okay, seven males turned up dead within the same fortnight. Choked on their own blood, but that's not the best part. Their hearts _and_ eyes were removed."_

"_You any idea what it is?"_

"_Few things come to mind but I really could use some help 'cause far as I can tell, these things are deadly. Three man job my guess."_

"_Woah, three man? Who else you bringing in?"_

"_I err… I heard you got two boys and that you've trained them well."_

"_I really don't know who you've been talking to Halloway but my boys don't do gigs like this."_

"_I don't trust many people John but from what I've been told I _can_ trust you and if you've trained your boys as good as I've been told then I can trust them as well. I understand how you feel but your eldest, gotta be about eighteen, right? He's practically an adult."_

"_He's my son and I don't want him getting hurt helping someone I know nothing about."_

"_Look, at least meet up with me. Look over some case notes that I've got; you don't even have to bring either of your sons. Think about it. I could really use the help 'cause for all I know I could end up like the rest of these guys."_

"_Where?"_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	2. Halloway

.-.-.-.** Primoris Filius**.-.-.-.

Summary: Everything has a story - every scar, every tear, every weapon, every amulet... So when the boys come across a new hunt with a familiar M.O. a valuable piece of jewellery might be needed to protect an innocent life once again. Takes place in both the present and the past... Deancentric (when aren't my stories?)

Disclaimer: Already said it… :P

Warnings: Typical bad language that you expect from the Winchesters, particularly Dean… Decided to set this after Season 2 but before Season 3… guess I wanted that extra angst factor!!!

HI! I know I said I didn't know when I'd update but I got this chapter wrote and the third one well on the way… so here we have it!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

2. Halloway

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_John Winchester pulled into the diner parking lot and looked at the small building in front of him. He kept the engine running, undecided whether or not he truly wanted to hear what this Patrick Halloway had to say._

"_I don't have to do this…" He muttered to himself, remembering the conversation he'd had with Dean back at the motel._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"_Where you going Dad?" His eldest had asked him, looking up from his position on the couch. He'd been so silent John had thought he'd fallen asleep, had thought he could creep out without either of his sons knowing, "We've only just got here… you should be resting shouldn't you?"_

"_Got other arrangements dude. Reason we're in this dump in the first – I'm meeting a hunter 'bout half a mile away."_

"_Why? Can't we just take a break? It's the summer hols… we could go somewhere."_

"_I know but there's this thing and it's killed quite a few people Dean, gotta put a stop to it." John had nearly laughed, talking to a half asleep Dean was like talking to the child he never got to be, so innocent._

"_Then can I come?" Dean asked as he tried and failed to pull himself up, "Sam's fast asleep and there's plenty of protection. Salt lines, few symbols in the bedroom."_

"_Not this time. Get some rest; I might need your help later."_

"_You don't have to do this Dad. You don't even know the guy."_

"_How would you know? Listening in on my phone calls now?" John joked, ruffling his eldest's hair. It was always easier to act playful with Dean when he wasn't on guard or expecting orders._

"_I can tell with you. You're worried."_

_Then again, the kid always seemed to be on guard and was always ready to obey. "I'll be fine. Promise."_

_Dean nodded and watched as his father pulled his jacket on and opened the door to leave. One quick glance back told John that Dean had already fallen asleep._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"_I don't have to do this." John repeated and turned the engine off, "But people are dying…"_

_Eyes ever watchful, he walked into the diner casually and glanced around, finding his gaze pausing on a young man in a corner booth. His eyes were dark and his hair was a dirty blond mop, long and messy, guy must have only been in his late-twenties. As John neared the man, he noticed the long scar running from half way down his cheek to midway down his neck._

"_John Winchester?" The man asked, shadowed eyes looking up with a glint of mischief similar to the one that Dean's eyes held, "Patrick Halloway. It's an honour sir."_

_John nodded in acknowledgement and took a seat opposite the young man, "You wanted to show me some stuff?"_

_Halloway nodded enthusiastically and quickly glanced at the spot John had been standing in, disappointment running over his features but only for a fraction of a second, "Yeah… but it's gonna be hard with just the two of us."_

"_And it'll be even harder with just the one of you. I came liked you asked and if I reckon it's safe I'll bring my son in on it, until then you've got me."_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

Sam kept a watchful eye over Dean during their breakfast, noticing how little his brother ate. The brother that was a human garbage disposal… the brother that had breakfast, brunch, elevenses, lunch, dinner and tea whenever possible and was always grouchy if he missed a single meal. It had to be the murders. Something bad must have happened. Sam remembered how similar Dean had acted when they'd dealt with the Shtriga, blaming himself for its earlier escape.

"What happened Dean?" Sam asked, placing the last piece of bacon in his mouth.

Dean pushed himself back away from his plate, giving up on his breakfast completely before replying, "Nothing happened."

"You can't lie to me. Was it before I started hunting? Or was it when I went away to college?"

Dean shook his head and gazed out the window, "Dad got involved with a really nasty hunter - makes Gordon kinda seem like a pussycat. He was a son of a bitch and then some and he screwed Dad over big time."

"How? I mean, Dad could bring out the bad in anyone. What did he do?"

"This guy was sick and twisted before he even met Dad, if anything the guy brought out the worst in Dad. It was just a hunt he probably shouldn't have taken. Drop it, okay?"

Sam opened his mouth to push further but at the hopeless pleading look in his brother's eyes, he couldn't find the words. He found himself nodding instead and finishing his breakfast in silence as Dean stared out the widow.

Dean swallowed hard and looked at Sam when he heard the knife and fork go down, "So, this waitress who called in sick… you get a name?"

"Melissa, that's all I heard but that isn't really much help."

Dean smirked and looked over his brother's shoulder to the waitress who brought them their food, "Well Natalie seemed pretty keen to talk earlier, I bet she knows about Melissa."

Sam rolled his eyes at Dean, "You planning on sweet talking her?"

"Sammy, some people hate journalists. _I_ wouldn't trust 'em as far as I can throw them. But some… some people can't wait to share what they've heard. Natalie seems like the type that would let herself get sweet-talked."

"And hey, who cares if you manage to get her number out of it?"

"Exactly." Dean shrugged and looked over Sam's shoulder, smiling sweetly as the waitress walked passed them with a plate of food.

Sam shook his head. One minute his brother was sucked back into a painful or distressing memory and the next, he was quite happy to flirt with a cute girl who just happened to be near by. Typical. Forcing the weary smile from his face, he picked up his cup to take a sip, gagging on the cold liquid as it rolled over his tongue, "That's disgusting."

"Yeah, coffee gets that way if you leave it standing for ages." Natalie replied, now standing at their table, eyebrows raised teasingly, "You want a new cup?"

"Yeah please." He nodded, pushing his into the centre of the table.

"And what 'bout you hun?" Her attention now focused on Dean.

"I'm good."

"You sure you don't want anything? You barely touched your food."

"Actually Natalie… I was wondering if you had a break soon." Dean answered and Sam knew it was a good move using her name, meant that he listened and took notice of her.

She tugged on her lip and looked over at the man behind the counter, "Bill! I'm taking my break… I've been in since six so don't even think of arguing with me."

Bill pulled a face that clearly stated he wasn't going to argue but he wasn't entirely happy about it either, "Ten minutes. That's all Nats then I want you back on your feet."

"Right then," Natalie started, sliding in beside Dean, "Looks like the answer is yeah… got my break. You wanna know about the deaths don't you?"

"Couldn't hurt to tell us right? You're in the perfect spot to hear things. I mean I understand if you don't wanna, what with us being journalists…" Dean smiled, shuffling back a little so he could look at her better.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

"_So far we've got seven dead. All males all aged between ten and twenty one." Halloway began, sliding the file in front of him across the table towards John._

_John opened it and scanned through the pages inside, autopsy reports, photographs, victim names, ages, occupations… the guy was thorough, that was sure, "So besides that, any clear links between each victim? Anything out of the ordinary?"_

_Halloway pulled a sheet of paper from the file and gazed down at it; swallowing hard before answering, "Not that I've noticed."_

"_And you've interviewed the families… friends… work colleagues?" John pushed, needing as much information as possible if he was going to consider working the case._

"_Yeah, all except this guy's." Halloway indicated the sheet in front of him, "He was the last one. Thought you might wanna come with me and check it out for yourself, ask your own questions…"_

"_Don't get ahead of yourself kid." John growled, "You've got plenty of information on the victims but what about the thing that's killing them?"_

_And at this Halloway reached into a bag that sat on the seat next to him, pulling out what looked like a hunter's journal. He flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. There were a few torn pages from some old books, they were crumpled at the edges and worn from age. He laid them out flat on the table and pointed to each one as he talked._

"_I've talked to a few sources and 'borrowed' these pages for reference. I don't think it could be a spirit, or at least not a normal spirit. They at least tend to haunt something, like a building, object, you've hunted them, you know what I mean." He moved one sheet forward a little so John could see a picture of what looked like a bull with scales, " So I was thinking it could be some kind of beast, there's the Catoblepas which can cause it's victims to convulse and that could explain the whole drowning on their own blood but what it doesn't explain is the eyes and hearts. Besides, surely if there was one running around then someone might have noticed it."_

"_Go on."_

"_Well, then I decided that this thing can't be a beast. It's too particular, too 'neat' – always taking the heart and eyes. Right? Then that kind of points to this thing, whatever it is, having some 'human' intelligence to it and the fact that no ones reported anything strange must mean that it's either really good at hiding or it can take human form." His hand fell on the second sheet, "When you think about the victims being males, well, got me thinking of a succubus but one of the victims was ten years old… anyway, what would a succubus want with hearts and eyes?"_

"_Okay… so far you've told me what it isn't. You gonna tell me what it _is_?" John sighed, lifting his hand to his temple._

"_I don't know what it is." Halloway looked away for a moment, falling silent._

"_I thought you said you knew." _

"_I said I had a few ideas… basically when it comes down to it I think we're dealing with some sort of demon so we need to figure out which one it is so we can send the bastard back to hell." Halloway locked eyes with John, there was a defiance and determination in those eyes that John admired but there was something else too that he didn't like._

"_I never said I was going to help."_

"_I really need a hand John. You and your boy… if this is a demon… one hunter ain't gonna be enough. Especially not one like me."_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	3. Happy Families

.-.-.-.** Primoris Filius**.-.-.-.

Summary: Everything has a story - every scar, every tear, every weapon, every amulet... So when the boys come across a new hunt with a familiar M.O. a valuable piece of jewellery might be needed to protect an innocent life once again. Takes place in both the present and the past... Deancentric (when aren't my stories?)

Disclaimer: Already said it… :P

Warnings: Typical bad language that you expect from the Winchesters, particularly Dean… Decided to set this after Season 2 but before Season 3… guess I wanted that extra angst factor!!!

Right – So Death Marker's is taking a little bit of time to finish (but it's so close and the next chapter should be a lot longer than usual – unless I break it into two) but I need a break from writing that and decided to update this story. :) Hope you enjoy!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

3. Happy Families

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

Natalie's ten minutes was almost up but in the time she'd been given, she'd already supplied them with plenty of information to be going on with. She'd told them how the deaths started a week ago and that Melissa's boy would make it the third one.

"You know he wasn't much younger than me. Melissa was so proud of him, he was about to start college this year and she just wouldn't stop talking about it. It's actually kinda unnerving to think about it 'cause he was in here every other day. Shy but charming." Natalie sighed and brushed her hands over her face, trying desperately to hide the tears that were forming.

"Her son going away to college is definitely something to be proud of…" Dean said after a moment, remembering the pride and sorrow that had come with finding out about Sam being accepted into Stanford, "It's just a shame he never made it."

"You know she's already a widow, I have no idea how she's going to cope with this as well."

"I don't suppose you know how we can contact her? Just we wouldn't want to include names and stuff without permission…" Sam asked, smile quirked in a sympathetic way.

"Erm, her number's probably in the office but I doubt Bill'll let me give it to ya. She's in the phonebook though, Melissa Sullivan – one L in Melissa, two in Sullivan."

"Thank you Natalie."

Natalie smiled and stood up, eyes quickly glancing towards a glaring Bill, she pulled her pad and pen from her pocket quickly and scribbled something down before handing it to Dean, "You need _anything_ else, don't hesitate to call. I'm sure you boys won't be working the whole time you're here."

Dean smiled and tucked the phone number into his jacket pocket, "Won't hesitate for a second."

"Right, so another coffee?" Her grin spread across her face.

"Better not, think we'll pay up and look into the information you gave us."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam shook his head as the brothers left the diner, Dean taking the lead and looking a hell of a lot perkier than he had done earlier. Apart from the obvious fact that Dean was more alert and awake than when they first entered the place, whatever hidden memories that had been risen after finding out about the recent deaths had been momentarily discarded at the thought of a cute date.

He fingered a torn piece of paper as he climbed into the passenger side of the Impala, having quickly checked the phonebook by the telephone in the diner for Melissa Sullivan. There were more Sullivan's than he'd been expecting but thankfully there had only been one M. Sullivan with address and telephone number supplied.

"Kid was going to college, eh?" Dean said suddenly as he pulled from the parking lot.

"Yeah." Sam answered distractedly, pulling his laptop from the backseat so he could pull up the quickest route to the address scribbled hastily on the paper in his hand.

"Bet his mom would want that mentioned in the paper, what a smart boy he was and all."

"Wait… you're not thinking of using the journalist cover, are you? I mean it worked with Natalie but this is family… family don't tend to like journalists."

"Family like their dead one's achievements to be known, besides, one look at those puppy dog eyes of yours and she'll be putty in your hand."

"And if that doesn't work? What you planning then?"

"Can't you just have faith in me?"

Sam sighed and looked down at his laptop, "Fine, but you're getting the entire blame if it doesn't work out."

"And if it does work out you're getting zero credit. So we're even."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_The house in front of them was depressing to say the least. The curtains were drawn and there was a tension in the air that just told them that whoever was inside was still in deep mourning over the loss of a loved one. In this case it was the proud family of Nile Jacobson, a sixteen year old boy who was found dead only days ago in the park._

"_And you've actually managed to talk to all these families posing as a journalist…? Normally that one gets me thrown off the property." John asked incredulously, grunting slightly as they walked up the deadened path._

"_They've been a little apprehensive but when it comes down to it, they want people to know about how something bad happened to someone good." Halloway looked over his shoulder at John as he spoke._

"_You really telling me all these kids are good? Clean? Absolutely perfect?"_

"_No way. Found out a couple of them are pretty bad screw ups, not that their loving families would admit it. In fact, Greg something or other I think was a pretty mean lad, found himself in jail quite a few times… took after his father." He knocked on the door as he spoke the last few words signalling it was time to get professional._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_Halloway had actually been right about the journalist cover. Mrs Jacobson was the only one home and when she'd originally answered the door she'd been extremely wary and hesitant to let them pass but in the end they succeeded. She had led them through to the main room and offered them both a drink, where John said no, Halloway said yes and it wasn't until she got back with the drinks, bringing John one as well even though he didn't want it, that they got on with the questioning._

"_What was your son like Mrs Jacobson?" Halloway asked, taking a seat opposite the woman whilst John walked about the room, looking, searching._

"_He was active, played a lot of sport at school." She started and John looked at the trophy in the display cabinet in front of him, "He'd play the solo sports but he was better on a team, he helped the school win last year's basketball tournament. He was going to rejoin the team this year."_

_John glanced over at their host after hearing a muffled sob and took a tentative step toward her, kneeling down in front of her, "I really am sorry about what happened to him, if it had been one of my sons I don't know what I'd do. I'd be lost without them."_

_She wiped away a few stray tears from her cheeks with the palm of her hand, "How many have you got Mr…?"_

"_Call me John. Two, youngest is Sam, eldest is Dean."_

"_You take good care of them John. You never know when…" And she sobbed again, turning her face momentarily away, "Look after them. If it wasn't for Jamie, she's my baby girl; I think I'd have given in as soon as I heard the news."_

"_That her in the pictures?" John asked, standing up to look at the main photograph on the mantelpiece, "She's beautiful, probably same age as Sam."_

"_Yeah, that's her. Same eyes as Nile. They always looked out for each other, he was her protector… and now…" _

"_So it was only the four of you then?" Halloway asked after she remained silent for a moment longer; he glanced at the happy family in the photo, mother and father standing behind son and daughter._

"_And now it's three."_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

"Mrs Sullivan?" Dean questioned when the door was answered.

"Yes?" The middle aged woman replied through the barely open crack. From what they could see, she had an untidy mess of black hair that looked like it was normally well kept. Her eyes were sunken and rimmed red, green irises bright among the sadness. Tears had stained her cheeks so they were splotchy, like a rash.

"We're currently in town writing an article on the tragic losses that have occurred…"

"I'm not interested." She hissed and Sam was sure she was about to slam the door on their faces.

"Please… we're not here to pry we just want to show the life before the death." Sam implored, eyes wide and hopeful, and though Dean always teased him about the big sad puppy dog eyes, they worked quite a lot.

Dean stood quiet, watching Sam work, not wanting to interrupt and spoil the 'magic'. He wasn't too sure why they were here, if anything he'd guess it was in a vain hope that he was wrong about the deaths and he prayed that he was. He knew Sam didn't remember because Sam didn't know the details. Sam was the geek boy more interested in school than in hunting… and Dean had liked it that way.

"What good would that do?" The woman hissed, tears threatening to spill and voice thick with emotion, "How would that help?"

"Mrs Sullivan, I know you were really proud of your son. Everyone says you had every right to be, he was a brilliant young man. Don't you want that recognised? I can understand if you want us to leave but give us a chance, please." Sam begged, shooting Dean a side glance that once again told him how much he hated the whole journalist cover.

"You better come in then." She whispered, opening the door and stepping to the side to let the brothers pass her. Once over the threshold, with the front door once again tightly closed, she led the way through to the sitting room.

It was a dark room, but Sam could tell that before her son's death it would have been bright and cheerful. Photo frames were scattered about all over the place on shelves, tables and even on the mantelpiece. The centre frame above the fireplace held a picture of a young couple, posing during some outdoor activity. The sun was shining directly on them and Sam could barely even recognise the happy young woman, eyes so filled with joy.

"That's me and Mick." Mrs Sullivan stated, watching as Sam studied the photos, "That was nearly thirty years ago. My one and only love."

"I'm really sorry Mrs Sullivan…"

"Enough, just call me Melissa, no one addresses me like that and what with… Melissa is fine." She took a seat in an old armchair and motioned for the Winchesters to join her, waving her hand towards the empty sofa.

"Must have been hard on your son."

"Eric, he was so young, barely even six. No one should have to lose a parent at such a young age and then… it's not fair. Everything he had, he worked so hard for and it's not fair for it just to be snatched away by some evil wicked person."

Dean nodded in agreement, understanding the anger that coursed through her, "I'm guessing he spent a lot of time at home, studying hard."

"He preferred it that way. Kept to himself a lot but he had plenty of friends, no one ever had a bad word to say about him. He came and visited me at the work, claimed he wanted to brighten my day but I saw the way his face lit up when he saw Nats. He had a crush on her; I bet she doesn't even know."

"So it's been just you and Eric since your husband passed away?" Dean asked softly, shifting in his seat a little.

"It was all we needed."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	4. Stepping Stones

.-.-.-.** Primoris Filius**.-.-.-.

Summary: Everything has a story - every scar, every tear, every weapon, every amulet... So when the boys come across a new hunt with a familiar M.O. a valuable piece of jewellery might be needed to protect an innocent life once again. Takes place in both the present and the past... Deancentric (when aren't my stories?)

Disclaimer: Already said it… :P

Warnings: Typical bad language that you expect from the Winchesters, particularly Dean… Decided to set this after Season 2 but before Season 3… guess I wanted that extra angst factor!!!

Hallo! I know – it feels like forever since I've updated any of my stories. I have been trying, just with starting Uni I am so not very good at managing my time at the moment. But I'm really hoping that once I get settled with Uni and work that I'll be able to get some more writing done. So thank you so much for sticking with me – it means so much 'cause you guys are great!!!

Okay so I decided to be all naughty and check out a couple of spoilers… even though I swore to myself that strictly under no circumstances I would… ahh well, the best laid plans of mice and men. Anyway… yeah, saw a mention of that wonderful necklace but I'll tell you what Kripke! You played with us for two whole seasons – so I'm gonna finish this story and hope you all reading will enjoy, even if it differs from events in the show. :D

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

4. Stepping Stones

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

"_So what do you think?" Halloway asked as soon as he was sure they wouldn't be overheard._

"_Any amateur could piece this together and know there's something supernatural that needs killing. The problem is figuring out patterns, finding out what's doing it and how to kill it before it murders someone else." John replied with a huff, running his hands across his face. He took another glance back at the house, this thing was destroying innocent lives and it needed to be stopped._

_Halloway clapped John on the shoulder and turned to smirk at the older man, "That's why I need your help." _

"_You're a smart guy, I can tell that much so why? Why bring me in on this?"_

"_I told you John, I'm not used to dealing with this kind of thing. I can't do it alone but I know I can trust you. So you in or do I just have to struggle on?" _

_John looked at the man in front of him, determination for the hunt boiling up in the young hunters eyes, "You've got one week. After that we'll see…"_

"_Great."_

"_Yeah, great for you." John smiled, pulling his keys from the pocket of his jacket, "Not sure my sons would agree."_

_Halloway nodded; face lighting up with excitement at the thought of a hunt. He watched as John unlocked his truck and opened the door, waiting until John turned around before speaking again, "So what next?"_

"_Next? I go 'home' and eat. You do whatever it is you do and we'll talk tomorrow, see if we can pick up any patterns in the hunting grounds." John could practically hear his stomach growling, he couldn't even remember the last time he'd eaten. He'd had a chance at the diner he'd met Halloway in but he was a professional._

"_Right…" Halloway looked as if he was considering the matter for a moment or two before shrugging and smiling once again, pulling his own keys from his pocket so he could clamber into his old blue Ford._

_The kid was something; that much he knew. There was just something about him that John couldn't quite put his finger on and as he watched the kid pull away he just stood there, thinking. He'd never really believed in bad vibes or all that stuff but he trusted his instincts, knew that when his guts told him someone was bad news then they were probably bad news. And as much as he hated to admit it, this guy was bad news but bad or not, innocent people were dying and lives needed saving._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

Sam didn't notice it at first, he was pretty sure that Dean didn't even know he was doing it, but every so often Dean would lift his hand up to the amulet attached to the worn leather cord around his neck. It was as if he was making sure it was still there. Sam frowned as he considered the treasured possession. He couldn't remember the exact point in time that Dean had received it but he was pretty sure that the only times he'd seen his brother without it was when the shape shifter had stolen it, whenever hospital staff had needed to remove it for safety or when Dean had made sure to store it in the Impala for the prison job they did.

"Any of that sound familiar?" Sam asked, breaking the silence that had fallen since leaving Melissa's.

"What?" Dean looked over at his brother, breaking from his daze.

"This thing is really getting to you isn't it?"

"I'm fine Sam; I just got a little lost in thought."

Sam grunted, "Why don't I believe you?"

"Believe what you want, we've got work to be doing."

"You mean checking out the other families?" The youngest asked, opening the Impala door and climbing in underneath his laptop, "We have to find out who they are first."

"Yeah, well that's where you come in." Dean grinned as he took his usual seat behind the wheel and started the engine. But the grin was just a mask for all the world to see. In his mind he kept going over memories of that hunt his Dad took with Halloway. It was meant to be over and done with. The memories weren't supposed to haunt him; they weren't supposed to dredged up, not here and particularly not now. There wasn't enough time for the past to haunt him.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

"_Dean!" John barked when he entered the small dingy but most prominently_ empty_ room, "Sam!"_

"_Yes Sir?" Came the reply from his eldest as his head popped up from behind one of the beds, his head and only his head. A muffled moan came from somewhere near him._

"_Let go of your brother Dean. How many times do I have to tell you?" John sighed, planting his bag on one of the beds, "Save your fighting for outside the room."_

_Grunting, Dean pulled himself from the tangled mess of limbs and held out a hand to his shaggy haired brother still on the floor, "He started it though."_

"_Yeah, real mature Dean." Sam moaned, pushing Dean's hand away and using the bed to help himself up, "All I wanted to do was get a break from listening to Metallica for one single second. Is that much to ask for?"_

"_Exactly! Don't mess with the music, Sammy." Dean teased. His hand reached over and ruffled Sam's hair before he had to quickly dodge a swipe._

"_Boys!" John said loudly and clearly and both brothers stilled at once, though John was sure he heard his youngest mutter something like 'It's Sam, not Sammy.'_

"_Sam," John stated firmly, not wanting any arguments, "Run to the office and book us the room for the next seven days, take the Kasalivich card just in case he needs it again."_

_Sam rolled his eyes but grabbed the wallet that his father was holding out for him and took the chosen credit card out before making his way from the room and towards the main office where a particularly annoying clerk was on duty._

"_And Dea-" John started but his eldest wouldn't let him get started, cutting in before his father even had time to finish his name._

"_You were gone early this morning and you came in late last night. So you're gonna be working with this guy then?"_

"_Yeah, but as I guess you've figured, I'm only giving him a week." _

"_I can help." Dean offered, straightening himself to his full height and holding his head up, staring John directly in the eye._

"_I don't want you to." _

_And Dean's stance faltered as his father's words hit him, "Why not? I've been hunting for ages. What's so different about this? Why's it so bad that I'm not allowed to help?"_

"_I don't like it Dean. Of all the cases I've worked… there's just something about this one and I don't want you involved." But as John looked his son up and down, he had a feeling that if this thing was nearly half as bad as Halloway said it was, then they might end up needing an extra pair of hands._

"_I can handle it. I swear to God Dad, I can. I want to help." Dean pushed, "And I don't just mean researching."_

_John shook his head and turned away from his eldest, moving towards a duffle that lay on the floor. As he scrounged through the bag for clean clothes, he decided it was best to end this conversation before it got out of hand, "No Dean, and that's an order."_

_His son was silent but John could feel the air between them tensing, he looked up from the duffle and his son once again met his eyes. Though his son's voice was tight and angry, it was obedient and loyal, "Yes Sir."_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

Parked up just outside the library, Dean was forced to tap to the almost non existent music that played through the radio speakers whilst Sam used the waning wireless Internet to search the records for the previous deaths. Sam being Sam, it didn't take long to come up with a few names and details.

"Nick Messenger, aged thirteen, and Freddie Gibson, aged twenty." Sam stated, emerging from his laptop to look at Dean, "This thing seems to have a taste for young blood."

"Then the sooner we find out what it is, the sooner we can kill it." Dean nodded firmly, glancing at Sam before reaching for the ignition, "You got any addresses?"

"Yeah…" Sam replied, pulling up the nearest one and as soon as Dean switched the engine on he knew he'd lost the chance to try and get Dean to spill the truth about what had happened with that Halloway guy that made him so uptight. Whether or not this case had anything to do with what had happened back then, Sam was gonna find out even if he had to tie Dean down and threaten him with the Smurfs.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

By the time they were finished with both families and climbing back into the Impala, Sam was putting two and two together. Noticing as little pieces of the puzzle fell into place and he began to wonder how quickly Dean would own up to what was so clearly obvious.

"_So Nick was your youngest?" Dean has asked, staring at the photo of a large and happy family. _

_Mr Messenger who had his arm wrapped around his wife, comforting her, was the one who answered, "The youngest but toughest of the bunch, he could win any argument – even the ones he didn't start. Kid would have you convinced coal was white if you gave him the time."_

"_So he was a bit of a trouble maker?" Sam queried, brows knitting together._

"_No more than the others. A tough life can make you a bit like that."_

"_Tough life? In what way?" _

"_Jumping from home to home, this is the first place he's been in long enough to adopt a surname."_

"_Wait… so you're foster parents?" Dean jumped in, confusion and anxiety clear in his eyes – though quickly hidden before either of the Messengers had a chance to see._

"_We can't have children ourselves but we both come from large families," Mrs Messenger explained, "But I swear we love every single one of these kids as if they were our own."_

"_I don't doubt that." Sam clarified, side glancing at his brother as Dean ran a hand through his hair and shadow passed across his face._

"_Do you know anything about his biological parents?"_

"_Only that the mother was too young really and we guess the father was probably the same."_

"_Great…" Sam had heard Dean mutter; and it was shortly after that they moved onto the Gibson household._

The conversation there had gone as much as Sam had suspected it would. Freddie being a clever young man and even though he fought like cat and dog with his younger siblings, he was still fiercely protective of them. Dean was silent when they left the house and was deliberately avoiding Sam's gaze, as if he knew his brother had found the missing link.

As Dean turned the key and the engine roared to life, Sam opened his mouth to speak but froze, not knowing exactly how to phrase his question. His mind wandered to the descriptions of the dead bodies and he felt a cold shiver run down his spine.

"Dean… you have to tell me what happened." He finally said.

"What you talking about Sammy?" Dean asked, only glancing long enough at Sam to take in his serious expression.

"You knew I'd see the pattern so just spill okay. This _is_ the same thing Dad hunted isn't it?" Sam prodded, "Just what is it?"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	5. First Son

.-.-.-.** Primoris Filius**.-.-.-.

Summary: Everything has a story - every scar, every tear, every weapon, every amulet... So when the boys come across a new hunt with a familiar M.O. a valuable piece of jewellery might be needed to protect an innocent life once again. Takes place in both the present and the past... Deancentric (when aren't my stories?)

Disclaimer: Already said it… :P

Warnings: Typical bad language that you expect from the Winchesters, particularly Dean… Decided to set this after Season 2 but before Season 3… guess I wanted that extra angst factor!!!

Hey again! I've been working really hard on this story… which basically means I had this burst of inspiration for it and got quite a bit of writing done but I'm splitting what I've wrote up. There's this chapter here and then there's another chapter which is just about finished and I'm hoping to get that one up before the weekend…

So I hope you enjoy!

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5. First Son

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_John sat at the small table in the motel room, town map spread out in front of him with several red and blue pins stuck into it. Halloway's notes littered any spare spaces the map might have left, leaving John to hold his coffee as he stared; taking in the position of each pin. _

_His youngest sat happily on one of the beds, cross legged and reading a book he'd borrowed from a library many states ago and his eldest hovered somewhere behind him, pacing the room and occasionally approaching him to stare over his shoulder. He knew Dean only wanted to help but it was damn annoying having a shadow lingering over you constantly, no more than three steps away. John found himself opening his mouth every now and then to tell Dean to back off and sit down but every time he did Dean would sense what was coming and moved away for a drink or something else that meant John had no grounds to complain._

_Returning his attention to the map, John concentrated once again on the pins. It was unnerving to think that most of the attacks had occurred barely even half a mile away from the motel, making him want to just get the job over with even more. Having already drawn a circle that contained all the marked areas, he was stuck wondering what the connection was between the victims. It couldn't be that they were all just random because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time; it was too… neat for that. Besides, until the murders plenty of people must have passed through the same patch of ground without so much as a cold shiver._

_He sighed heavily, and lifted his hand to rub his brow. There was nothing else the map could tell him, the only thing left to do would be to investigate the actual grounds. As if on cue, his phone began vibrating on the table and before it had the chance to play the annoying high pitched ring, John picked it up._

"_Winchester." He answered._

"_You sound bored." Halloway mocked back, a mischievous and playful note in his tone._

"_Staring at a map for two hours will do that to you." _

_The motel room fell silent, Dean no longing pacing, instead standing stock still and though Sam didn't look up from his book, his eyes froze into place as he listened to his father's phone call._

"_Look… John… I'm getting antsy, okay? It's been nearly five days since this thing killed last and I think it's gonna strike again soon. We're not gonna figure out what this thing is unless we can see it up close or get something more than the info we got now. We need to get hunting."_

_John nodded mutely, not overly keen on admitting he felt the same way, "And you want to go tonight?"_

"_Why not?"_

"_Because that place is far too big for us to search…"_

"_That's what I've been saying John boy." _

_John hung his head at the implication, the phone dropping away from his ear for a moment as he thought. He heard Dean gently clearing his throat behind him but refused to turn around._

"_He's eighteen, right? He's well trained… what could go wrong?"_

"_Famous last words Halloway."_

"_You know we need an extra set of hands… or do you just wanna sit around and risk losing anot-" But Halloway's empty threat was cut off by Dean shuffling closer, daring to speak._

"_Dad – there's a set of radio's in the trunk… Sam's fine just reading – please Dad." Dean pleaded, throwing Sam a quick look that told him to get back to the book and make sure he looked like he was enjoying it. Sam sent a silent glare back but did as he told._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

Dean remained silent, concentrating on the road as he readjusted his grip on the steering wheel. He flatly refused to look at Sam, knowing exactly what he would see.

"Dean…" Sam prompted. His eyes focused on his stubborn brother, "If you know what this is… you gotta speak to me. I need all the facts so we can kill it before it goes after someone else."

Finally Dean nodded numbly but still refused to look at Sam, "I know that."

"Then talk to me!" The youngest demanded, his whole body tense as he watched Dean's grip on the wheel tighten, waiting for him to just say something.

"What do you want me to talk about Sam? You don't wanna know what this thing is… you just wanna know what happened." Dean barked, regretting his angry tone as soon as the words left his mouth and still unwilling to look into his brothers hurt eyes.

"I want to know both." Sam reasoned as he tried to keep his voice level, "What happened to you Dean? What happened to you to make you and Dad so pissed at this Halloway guy?"

Dean glanced momentarily at Sam but kept his jaw clenched. Painful memories flooded back from the place that he thought he'd buried them. Sam was putting the pieces together, _had_ put the pieces together and now…

"Dean…" He whined.

"He used me as bait Sam!" Dean snapped, throwing daggers at his brother before returning his attention to the road. "He used me as bait…" He added, his voice softer and pained.

Sam stared at his brother, eyes narrow and mouth agape. From the evidence, he figured Dean had gotten hurt but he didn't think for one second that the guy had _used_ him. He felt a rush of anger towards Halloway for doing it and towards his father for letting it be done, "When?"

"About ten years ago." Dean answered sheepishly, his shaking body finding it increasingly hard to drive.

"And where was I? Dad… he should have known. He should have taken me instead. This Goddamn thing kills first born sons!"

For a moment, Dean was shocked. Actually hearing Sam say the words made him remember the danger he'd been in all those years ago. He fought against the hammering in his chest and wet his lips, "He didn't know… how could he? It's not like Halloway gave him all the facts – just the ones he needed to be motivated." Dean quickly wiped the sweat forming on his palms on his jeans before returning his hands to the wheel, "Besides… you were just a kid."

"So were you!"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

"_Silver bullets?"_

_Dean nodded._

"_Rock Salt?"_

_And Dean nodded again, patting his pocket._

"_Now you keep this thing on at all times." John said, quickly testing the radio before throwing it to his son, "I want updates every fifteen minutes, you tell me where you are, what you've seen and heard and if you think you've found something. _And_ if you do find anything – you call me. If you do see anything – you call me. I don't want you trying to jump this thing alone or you'll find it jumping you."_

_Dean remained quiet during his father's tirade, eyes wide at the fatherly tone in the orders. It unnerved Dean to think that the reason it was there was because John really didn't think it was a wise idea to take him. But Dean could handle himself, right?_

"_You got me?"_

"_Yes sir."_

_John nodded and looked his son up and down once more before heading to the door. Dean rechecked his gun and made to follow, but the shaggy haired teen caught his arm and refused to let go._

"_Dean… why?"_

"_It's my job Sammy."_

"_Not this time it isn't. You know Dad doesn't even want you there."_

"_He's just scared." Dean replied with a shrug, shooting the door a quick glance._

"_And you aren't?" _

_Dean was scared, he was terrified. He had no idea what he was hunting or how to kill it and he was going to be wandering around alone in some strange building. "I'm fine Sam."_

"_Dean!" John barked from the car, worry making him impatient._

"_I'm here." He called back as he crossed the threshold, shooting Sam a quick and cocky smile._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_Dean sat rigidly in his Dad's truck, body tense as he was made to be the passenger and leave his beloved Impala behind. He'd objected, or at least he'd opened his mouth to object but John had just shot him a hard look that meant 'no arguments, now get in the truck' and Dean did as he was told. Silently and pouting, Dean rechecked his gun once again, his hands caressing the metal barrel like it was a lover's hand._

_John watched his son from the corner of his eye as they approached the old apartment block they would be searching. He felt a cold sting at his heart as he thought about how most kids Dean's age would be playing on video games, or out drinking, not holding a gun like it was probably the best friend a kid could have. And then there was Sam… so different and yet so similar to Dean. The difference was that Sam had Dean as well as him; he had someone that allowed him to be normal, even if it was only a little bit. _

"_You ready?" John asked, his voice loosing some of the harsh edge it had gained over the past hour._

_In reply, Dean looked up from his gun, a mischievous grin plastered on his face and his eyes twinkling with excitement. When John nodded and opened the truck door, Dean did the same and climbed out, straightening up to come face to face with Halloway._

"_So you must be Dean?" The hunter smiled, eyes travelling up and down the young Winchester, taking all of him in._

"_Yeah." He replied, feeling slightly unnerved by the strange but ever present look in this strangers eyes, "And you're Halloway."_

_It was a statement rather than a question and Halloway laughed, clapping him on the back before heading around the other side of the truck to greet John. Shivering despite himself, Dean felt officially unnerved and looking around at the area they'd be searching, he wasn't feeling comforted._

"_You listening to me Dean?" John asked; narrowing his eyes as his son simply stood staring into space._

"_Wha?" Dean spun around and woke from his daze to look at his father, "Sorry… I err.. what were you saying?"_

"_I need your head in this hunt kiddo, if it's not I need to know now."_

"_I'm fine sir."_

_His father looked at him sceptically before continuing, "Well, I was saying that I'll give the grounds to the left a quick sweep, Halloway'll go right and you're starting in the building."_

"'_Cause you don't think it'll be there." Dean mumbled under his breath, feeling the heat rising in his cheeks as he realised he'd spoken just loud enough to receive a warning glare from his father. He knew he was being given the 'safest' task because it was night and if this thing would be more likely out hunting then hold up in some 'lair'._

"_What was that?"_

"_Yes sir." Dean rectified his mumble and squared his shoulders, already turning on his heels to head towards the old building he'd been assigned to. _

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

Unable to fight it anymore, eyes and body alert, Dean quickly checked the surrounding road before pulling up at the side with a lot less care for his precious black car than normal. Turning off the engine, he stared down into his lap and took a deep steadying breath.

"It was my choice Sam."

"Yeah, well your choices suck." Sam snapped savagely, unable to keep the unwanted venom from his voice. It was the truth after all – Dean's latest decision proved that more than anything. Hell or life without Sam? But to Dean, life without Sam _was_ Hell.

"Don't… please Sam…" Dean licked his dry lips again.

Sam shook his head and continued to stare hard at his brother, "I can't pretend Dean. I can't accept it… and you? You're always avoiding things. Don't you trust me enough? After all these years… after your _deal_ I'd have thought you owed me that much."

"It's not about trust and you know it."

"Then what is it about? Pushing me away all the time isn't protecting me. Trying to hide the _bad stuff_ from me… that's the same as lying. Lying never goes over too well for us."

"What do you want me to say? You want me to tell you I'm sorry? You want me to go into details about how fucked up that hunt got? You want all the gory details?"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_Creepy didn't even begin to cover the feeling he got from this building. His footsteps echoed loudly through the empty space, emphasizing how alone he felt. It unnerved him slightly, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his entire body became alert. He kept his flashlight off and tucked it into the waistband of his jeans where the gun he currently held would have normally been._

_He twisted his neck around, checking the direction he'd just come from before continuing on his search. Shadows, caused by the streetlights outside, danced across the dusty floor and each time he saw one move his heart hammered a little harder._

"_Pull it together Winchester." He chided himself. "Pull it together."_

_Sweeping each floor would have been harder if they hadn't been so open and empty, so Dean was thankful for that as he made his way once again back towards the stairs._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	6. Encounter

.-.-.-.** Primoris Filius**.-.-.-.

Summary: Everything has a story - every scar, every tear, every weapon, every amulet... So when the boys come across a new hunt with a familiar M.O. a valuable piece of jewellery might be needed to protect an innocent life once again. Takes place in both the present and the past... Deancentric (when aren't my stories?)

Disclaimer: Already said it… :P

Warnings: Typical bad language that you expect from the Winchesters, particularly Dean… Decided to set this after Season 2 but before Season 3… guess I wanted that extra angst factor!!!

Now I could have been cruel and split this chapter up into two 'cause its so damn long it would have done so easily… but I decided not to break the action up and to keep it altogether. I haven't really read through it again yet so please excuse any spelling or grammar mistakes for now and I'll report the amended copy up later but for now… I was just really excited when I wrote this one so I hope you enjoy!!!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

6. Encounter

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

Sam paused, the retort he had lodged tightly in his throat. Did he really want to know? Did he truly want the details? His blood would boil and he knew it… it was as if he was just looking for an excuse to be angry. What would it matter if it hurt Dean to bring up these memories so long as it gave him an excuse?

It mattered. So Sam swallowed his retort and opted for an apology instead, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" Dean grunted, staring expectantly at his brother.

"You got hurt. I know you did… I just… I feel like I should remember how… like I should have helped you."

"You are such a chick." Dean whined as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

Sam half smiled then looked away, "You don't want to tell me, then that's fine. Just don't expect me to like it that way."

"You can like it or lump it Sam but you've got enough going on in that freaky head of yours without worrying about my past as well."

"So where do we start?" Sam asked, understanding that the tone in his brother's voice meant the topic was now closed and it was time to move onto the next.

"We get a map of the town and find out where the attacks took place."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_John glanced at his watch as he came closer to the building. So far his side was clear but he'd had to double back on himself because of a fence that would be too dangerous to climb and much easier to avoid. He remembered seeing a clear path near the building where it looked like a gate had once stood._

_Seeing the time on his watch, John frowned. He'd told Dean to keep checking in, letting him know he was okay. His eyes rose up the building as he tried to gauge how far his son should be and paused, deciding the third floor was the most likely, and pulled out the radio._

"_Dean…" He called, eyes searching for movement, "You find anything?"_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

There were less murders so therefore less accuracy in the location of the thing's hideout. But they had a rough idea, narrowing it down to an old industrial park. It was dark by the time they pulled up and due to past experiences, especially when it came to this creature, Sam had already decided there was no way in hell they were splitting up.

"So what exactly is this thing then?" He asked distractedly, checking his gun as Dean passed it to him.

"It's like a wraith. First real recording of it is in the Bible."

"Woah… what?" His hands stopped their movements as he froze and stared at his brother.

"Tenth plague Sammy." Dean stated as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "Some say God actually created the thing and it didn't like the idea of being unmade so it stuck around. And then there's some who say that it's the pharaoh's son, twisted and poisoned by time until he's so far past being a spirit and more like a demon."

"And which do you think?"

"Me?" Dean smirked, clicking his gun closed, "I don't care. I just say we waste the son of a bitch."

"Not to be a kill joy but how do we do that?"

"See that's where it gets tric-" Dean paused mid-word, ears strained as he listened to a distant shuffling noise.

One look at his younger brother and he knew Sam had heard it too. He lifted his gun ready and nodded at Sam, both brothers shifting and tensing, edging slowly forward to the noise. They communicated with their eyes and body language, Dean moving slightly to the left, and Sam to the right, but neither too far away to be considered separated.

The gradually eased around the corner that they'd heard the shuffling from, nearly caught off guard as the thing creating the noise came face to face with them.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_He'd just finished climbing the stairs to the third floor when his heart completely skipped a beat at the sight of a shadow moving at the corner of his vision. Swallowing hard, he spun and searched the empty space, gun held tight and firm._

_His eyes were playing tricks on him… his Goddamn eyes were trying to scare him to death!_

_He brushed off the imagined shadow and left the stairwell to enter the big empty room beside it. The silence was deafening, especially after exposing his ears to the loud harsh tones of Metallica the previous night. But the silence was broken as static came across the radio. It was annoying and dangerous, giving his position away to anyone who cared to listen. Just as he was about to turn the volume down, his father's voice rang through the crackling device._

"_Dean… you find anything?"_

_Dean sighed and pressed the button, raiding the radio to his mouth, "Besides a whole new level of frustration?"_

"_You okay kid?" Was his father's next question, leaving Dean a little stunned, "You sound shaken."_

"_Dude, I'm in a dark building hunting God knows what and it's freaking freezing." Dean joked, only barley able to contain the nervous laugh at the end. He listened to the pause as his father considered his truthfulness to being shaken. Deciding he wasn't going to trick being told to head back and regroup, he added, "Dad, I'm fine."_

"_Keep it that way."_

_A shuffle at the end of the room caught Dean's attention and he lifted the radio one more time with one hand, readying his glock with the other, "Gotta go Dad… over and out."_

_He turned the volume down on his Dad's protests, as the eldest Winchester tried to find out what was going on, and shoved the radio back into his pocket. The eighteen year old crept carefully forward, trying to keep his footsteps as light as possible. His left hand slid under the butt of the gun whilst his right gripped the handle. He flexed his fingers and let the index on his right rest on the trigger ready._

_Another shuffle and Dean has something to aim his gun at. It came from behind a tall half beaten crate and the hunter slowly made his way around. He was prepared for just about anything to run out at him. But running was on thing… a giant scurrying flea ridden rat was another. The thing was the size of a cat… or small dog… and as it rushed past him, catching his leg, it cause him to send off a stray bullet that lodged itself into the ceiling._

"_Damn it!" Dean whispered harshly, eyes darting back and forth for the rat so the next bullet he used would be on that freaking sucker._

_He was brought to a halt though as the nearly silent radio hissed inside his pocket. He pulled it out and turned the volume up once more._

"_Answer me! Goddamnit Dean!" John screamed though rushed footsteps and pants._

"_Dad?" Dean questioned, spinning to look at the doorway to the stairs, expecting John to come through it any second._

"_Dean! What the hell just happened?"_

"_There was a rat… my gun er…" He looked up to the bullet and grimaced._

"_Okay… fine. Nevermind. Just get the hell out of there." His father ordered and Dean's brow pulled together but before the question 'why' could escape his lips, something strong and rough spun him around._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

The boy standing in front of them was probably no older than thirteen and in Sam's opinion; he was far too young to be wandering around at that time of night, especially in a place like that.

"Please… don't shoot me!" The boy pleaded, body frozen by the fear that was so clearly expressed in his eyes.

Dean lowered his gun immediately and scowled at the boy, "We're not gonna shoot you, you idiot. What the hell you doin' out here?"

"I could ask you the same thing." The kid shot back, raising his hands in a defensive manner and backing up a few steps.

"Oh I dunno, personally I just felt like a stroll through a place where a possible murderer is. Gotta get my kicks somehow." Dean growled; sarcasm thick on his tone.

"Yeah… and I thought I'd bag me a few pixies."

Dean smiled at the kid, slightly taken aback but impressed by the kid's display of confidence, "Look kid, you do realise this really isn't the best place to be at the moment, right?"

"Yeah, I gathered that the moment I saw you two and your guns."

Sam lifted his hands up slowly so the kid could see him putting his gun away, nudging Dean so he would do the same and albeit it reluctantly, the older brother followed suit.

"You know about the murders right? Them really bad ones that are the talk of the town?" Sam asked and the kid nodded, "Well, did you realise you were walking through the same place that the bodies were found?"

The kid looked around and shook his head gently… 'course the kid had no idea. How could he? It's not like the crime scenes were in view.

"I don't care why you're here but you're gonna get your ass moving and get the hell away." Dean said, "You understand?"

The kid nodded, not truly knowing why but the men seemed like they could be trusted.

"How old are you anyway?" Sam asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

"Thirteen." The kid squeaked, "And my mom would kill me if she found out I took a shortcut through here."

"It's not like we're gonna tell…" Dean shrugged, stepping to the side and indicating a free passage, "Now get!"

Nodding quickly and slightly numbly, the kid surged forward and passed the brothers, not bothering to look back. He walked so far and then broke into a run. Dean stared after him, feeling his skin crawl.

"You think he'll be okay?" Sam prodded, noticing the concerned look on his brother's face.

"No, I don't." Dean answered truthfully.

_.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-._

_August 1997_

"_Gotta go Dad… over and out." Dean chimed through the radio, voice a little most hushed than before._

"_Dean! If you've seen something…"_

_Silence._

"_For God's sake Dean! Tell me what you're doing."_

_John's eyes searched the windows of the third floor frantically before finally landing on a shadow that appeared to be staring down at him. His blood ran cold and he knew immediately that it wasn't his son. With only one thing on his mind, getting to Dean, John launched himself towards the building and the door that Dean had disappeared into before._

_As he reached the first step, he heard the gunshot echo through the building and his heart thumped harder, threatening to burst out from his chest. He tried his best to take as many steps as he could at a time, finding it harder as he pulled the pressed the radio button and begged for his son to answer him, "Dean! Talk to me Dean… come on! Dean! Answer me Goddamnit!"_

"_Dad?" Dean's voice came over puzzled and John nearly stopped his running to breathe a sigh of relief. But he didn't have time to stop – something was up there with his son._

"_Dean! What the hell just happened?" John demanded, halfway up the first flight of stairs._

"_There was a rat…. And my gun er…"_

_The pause at the end caused John to shake his head, either Dean had committed raticide or he's shot a stray bullet._

"_Okay… fine. Never mind. Just get the hell out of there."_

_When Dean didn't reply, didn't even ask why, John pushed himself harder up the steps._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

After another moment of just watching the shadows that the kid had disappeared into, Dean set off at a sudden sprint giving chase to the boy, feeling the urgency to reach him before anything else could.

"Dean!" Sam called, groaning as his brother rushed forward without even giving a clue as to what he was planning. Realising Dean wasn't going to wait for him, he followed his brother, catching up quickly, "What the hell?"

"It's gonna go after him… I just know it."

Within seconds, Dean's suspicions were confirmed by an agonising cry from the bushes nearby. It was unmistakably the cry of a child who was afraid and hurt and completely alone and it tore through Dean harsher than any demon could. He pushed himself harder and reached around his back to grab the gun.

Sam had fallen behind but only by inches, Dean's determination and adrenaline driving him faster. He copied his brother's movements, drawing out his gun as well but froze when they came into a clearing where the fugliest thing he had seen was pinning the boy to the moist and muddy floor.

The kid writhed under it's grip, whimpering and moaning, and Dean sent two silver bullets streaming through the air towards any part of the creature he could aim at.

"Hey! Fugly! Remember me?" He called out and the creature raised its head, tilting it to the side as it considered the elder Winchester for a moment.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

"_Oh shit." Dean gasped as the thing in front of him stared directly into his eyes. It looked humanoid… but at the same time not. Probably near seven feet tall. Its skin was tight and black, like it had been painted by the shadows, and was pulled across the tall skeletal but muscular frame. Its eyes were dead and hollow, like a demon's, thick with malice. Sharp nails dug into Dean's wrist causing him to release the radio and blood to ease from the fresh stinging wound._

_The thing was fast too. Its free hand moving faster than Dean's mind could comprehend, reaching for his chest. It slashed him, jagged cuts opening on the layer the layer of skin above his heart… shirt shredded and slowly staining with blood._

"_Son of a bitch." The young hunter called out, regaining enough sense to lift the gun and pull the trigger. The bullet dug deep into the creature's abdomen, catching it by enough surprise that it released its grip on Dean._

_He stumbled backwards, catching his breath and raising his gun long enough to realise it wasn't going to do him any good. It snarled at him and lunged. Quick reflexes allowed the young Winchester to spin on his heels but shock caused him to crash to the ground, the creature landing nastily on top of him, pinning him down._

"_You fugly bastard!" Dean called out as the thing released the pressure on Dean just long enough to dig its nails into his shoulder, in a tighter than iron clad grip, and flip him. His back thumped against the cold floor, the flashlight that was still stuck in his waistband digging in painfully, and winded him, whilst the back of his head received a more than decent blow from the same hard floor. Spots danced momentarily in his vision but he blinked them away, only to close his eyes tight in agony as the thing ripped its nails from his shoulder, no care for its prey._

_And then it went for his heart again, this time actually gripping at his chest, driving not only its nails but its fingers into his chest. For a moment he felt nothing, then his entire body exploded with pain as it tried to get deeper._

_It jerked, pulling at the already injured area and Dean was sure he heard a loud noise which caused ringing in his ears. The things angry screech tore through the room. Another two bangs… definitely gunshots… they had to be… or so he hoped._

_Not wanting to be disturbed whilst it did whatever it was trying to do to Dean; the creature released its grip, intending to get rid of the person causing the disturbance. But Dean heard muttered words and felt something wet splash him… holy water? The holy water hissed angrily as it came in contact with the creature's skin._

_Dean lifted his eyes to the doorway that led to the stairwell and though his vision was too blurred, he could make out the figure of what looked like a man. He felt a cold shiver and knew there was something wrong about the person standing there… They didn't even speak to him._

"_Dean!" He barely caught the word as it came from somewhere behind the stranger… it sounded scared and frantic and Dean knew instantly that it was his father's voice. So who was in the doorway?_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

Sam could have sworn the thing smiled as it released its grip on the boy and stood up, making its way towards them… no – towards Dean.

"Dean!" Sam hissed in warning, not liking whatever his brother was thinking.

"Trust me Sam." He hissed back, "Get the kid while I preoccupy this bastard."

Before Sam could disagree, Dean raised his gun and shot the creature once more, throwing himself to the left just as the creature joined him and scrabbled for his kicking legs. Whilst Dean backed away from the creature, Sam knelt next to the boy and scooped him up into his arms.

The kid was shivering and blood oozed from a wound on his chest. Luckily though, it looked as though they'd got there in time before any permanent damage could have been done… as it was, it would only be out of caution to take him to a hospital.

Sam pushed up from his legs and spun just in time to see the creature pin Dean. It reached for his chest and paused, entire body frozen as it's eyes focused on something small that Sam couldn't make out.

"Yeah, that's right. Still can't touch me, can you?" Dean smirked at the thing.

In reply, it growled and swiped it's nails across his face leaving what would only be a superficial wound behind. Before either brother had the chance to make their next move, though neither knew what they were exactly, the thing rushed off back into the shadows leaving only a threatening snarl behind.

Groaning, Dean hoisted himself up onto his elbow and looked at the kid in Sam's arms, "Hospital?"

Sam nodded, "Just to be on the safe side."

As Dean finally pulled himself off the ground and limped over to Sam, damn nails on that thing hurt like a bitch when they'd scratched his leg, he was feeling drained and wanted desperately to get the hell out of there before the damn thing came back. For now, they had priorities.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_It was too quiet as John forced himself up the stairs. But silence never did last._

_He heard an agonised cry from his son on the above floor and nearly froze from fear. And then came the gunshots. Hope flooded through him as he made his way to the top of the stairs. But the silhouette in the doorway was not Dean's. He couldn't stop himself from calling out to his son._

_There was a flurry of movement inside the room and John saw the silhouette surge forwards. John did the same, the dimly lit room illuminating several things for him – an escaping creature, Halloway giving chase and his son lying injured on the ground barely feet away._

"_Dean…" He breathed, falling to his knees next to his son and quickly assessing the damage. He pulled his flashlight out and flicked it on, running the light up and down his son's body, pausing as he considered each wound. They were deep and messy, especially the one on his chest._

"_Dean, come on… talk to me kiddo." John pleaded, "It's okay, I'm here."_

"_Da…ad?" The boy asked though broken breaths, eyes unfocused and pupils mismatched._

_John's breath caught in his throat as he quickly raised the light to Dean's head and spotted the splotches of blood on the floor just behind it._

"_Damn it Dean." John growled, hating himself for brining Dean along on the hunt, "You look like crap."_

_Worse than crap… the pale complexion didn't help much and when John lifted his son's head gently to feel behind, finding a gash, he knew he had to get his son to a hospital and pretty damn quickly._

"_Winchester!" Halloway called out but John didn't halt his movements as he tried to stop the blood oozing from Dean's wounds._

"_What?"_

"_It's getting away! We need to take it down."_

"_My son needs a hospital! That thing can wait!"_

"_Don't you understand?" Halloway growled, coming to stand just behind John, "It's. Getting. Away."_

"_And my son could die! What the hell is wrong with you?"_

"_He knew the risk… as did you."_

_John could feel the anger rising through him, boiling in his veins but kept his mouth shut. Instead, he gathered Dean into his arms… and God that kid was heavy._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	7. Waiting

.-.-.-.** Primoris Filius**.-.-.-.

Summary: Everything has a story - every scar, every tear, every weapon, every amulet... So when the boys come across a new hunt with a familiar M.O. a valuable piece of jewellery might be needed to protect an innocent life once again. Takes place in both the present and the past... Deancentric (when aren't my stories?)

Disclaimer: Already said it… :P

Warnings: Typical bad language that you expect from the Winchesters, particularly Dean… Decided to set this after Season 2 but before Season 3… guess I wanted that extra angst factor!!!

Hello again!! It feels like it's been awhile since I've updated. Not much acting in this one and it's not as long as the last chapter but hopefully you'll enjoy it. Thank you all for reading:D

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

7. Waiting

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

Sam sat motionless on the hard chair in the waiting room at the hospital. He'd been sitting there for the past half hour whilst the doctors took off with the kid in one direction and a nurse took off with Dean in another. He had to smile at the look of abject horror that had been etched into his brother's features as he was dragged away by the plump woman. He only had himself to blame… some hospitals weren't very efficient but it seemed like they'd caught this particular one on a slow night and so the staff were desperate for something to do. Therefore coming into a hospital sporting a limp and a claw mark to the face was bound to get some bored nurses excited.

That left the youngest Winchester sitting by himself to think about what had just happened. He couldn't wrap his head around it. This thing, this creature, had hurt Dean years ago and was now killing again. He remembered how badly the Shtriga had affected his brother and felt his mouth dry as he wondered if this had been similar… the one that got away… lived to kill another day.

It was the same creature _that _he was sure of. It had recognised his brother and Dean had recognised it. True, lots of nasties tended to look the same, especially after awhile, but Dean _knew_ this one. He'd drawn it to him with the promise of tying up loose ends or finishing a fine dessert, Sam wasn't sure which. But when it came down to real damage, the creature couldn't touch him. His mind wandered to the amulet around his brother's neck, and as he traced the detail of it in his mind's eye, each groove, each shadow, each dent… he didn't even hear the footsteps coming up beside him.

"Dude, are you drooling?" The voice startled Sam and he whipped his head up, eyes landing on the soothing green hazels of Dean's.

"I don't drool!" He answered like an indignant child and if Dean hadn't looked so worn and tired, he would have probably elbowed him too.

"Yeah… you just keep telling yourself that." Dean teased as he took a seat beside Sam. He touched the claw marks across his cheek tenderly; they still burned from the anti-sceptic that Nurse Nightmare had used on them. She'd been all for covering them up in a huge and brightly coloured plaster but Dean had politely declined… if you can call 'get the hell away from me with that, you demonic witch' polite. She'd wrapped his leg up nicely though, at least she knew what she was doing there.

"How you feeling?" Sam asked in a small voice.

"I'm fine. Just a few scratches… literally." He replied with a smile. His eyes skimmed Sam for any sign of injury, just like they always did, and he knew he didn't need to ask the same question. Sam was fine. So instead he thought about the kid. "Any news?"

"Nothing. I think I heard someone mention cops…"

"Cops? Awesome, what better way to end the day?"

"We could get lucky… they might be dealing with some high speed car chase or a hostage situation…"

"Oh yeah, I can definitely see that happening around here. Regular everyday occurrence I bet." Dean snarked; sarcasm thick as he huffed and squirmed on his seat, unable to get comfortable.

Sam let his chin fall down against his chest for a mere moment of defeat before raising his head once again to look at his brother, "They won't know who we are and as long we don't give them any reason to question it… we should be fine."

"What we should be and what we will be are two very different stories." The sigh Dean released was as heavy as the approaching footsteps of the doctor. Neither Winchester looked up though until the man in the white coat addressed them.

"Mr Granger?" He questioned, eyes landing on Sam who had given him the name initially. Both brothers slowly pushed themselves from the chairs, Sam nodding slightly in reply.

"How is he Doc?" Dean asked, his eyes flicking momentarily towards the hall behind.

"He'll be fine. He's sleeping at the moment and it's probably best we leave him that way. The wound on his chest is minor and easily fixed up. He was lucky you guys were there to help him..."

"Anyone know who he is?"

"One of the nurses has his phone, from what I heard she managed to get through to the kid's mother. She's on her way through here now, as are the police. We're expecting them any minute."

Dean nodded and found his seat again, taking in a deep breath. He was surprised by the burrowing of the doctors brow and the concern that lathered the older man's voice, "You been looked at yet?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." He answered, "Just been a long day."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_John stared at the thick white door separating him from his son. The nurse had given up trying to lead him to a seat awhile ago so instead resorted to bringing him a steamy foam cup of black coffee. He held it firmly in his hand, only taking the occasional sip. He'd filled out all the necessary forms and now he just wanted to know what was going on with Dean._

_His eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. It was the early hours of the morning… Sam would be asleep, no need to disturb him. After all, Dean would be fine. He was a strong fighter and it hadn't been that bad… right?_

_Halloway had disappeared but John knew he hadn't gone far. Halloway had a hell of a lot to answer for and just as soon as John heard from the doctors, he was going to find that manipulating bastard and make him pay. Anger flushed through him as the pieces fit together. How hadn't he seen it? The guy had been so eager for John to bring his sons into this… no, so eager to bring _Dean_ into this. He didn't know why but the guy had set them up. _

"_Mr Norwood?" A voice interrupted his thoughts, bringing him back to the present and he turned his head to face the young doctor that was talking to him._

"_How is he? He's okay isn't he?" John blurted out, nearly losing the grip on his cup._

"_He's stable." The doctor replied before taking a deep breath and holding his arm out in a 'follow me' fashion. As the doctor led John through the doors and down the corridor to the small white room that Dean currently occupied, he began to explain, "We won't know the full extent of the head injury until he wakes up, though we're hoping that from the size of the wound it will be minimal, disorientation, temporary memory loss, fatigue, headaches…"_

_John nodded numbly as he stared at the completely still body of Dean, wires and tubes protruding from various places and leading to machines. He came up besides his son and stared down, dark bruises already forming across the revealed skin._

"_The wound on his chest needed stitches and there's still chance of infection – it was deep and well, Mr Norwood, your son was extremely lucky that whatever did this to him didn't get any deeper… We want to keep an eye on him but providing everything looks okay and he wakes up tomorrow, he should be fine to take home." The doctor placed the clipboard at the bottom of the bed and made to leave the room, "Normally we would ask you to leave and come back tomorrow but… by the time you get home it'll probably be time to set off again. There's no problem with you staying the night just so long as you behave and don't stop anyone doing their jobs."_

"_I understand." John agreed, smiling appreciatively at the doctor before the man left the room. _

_Almost immediately, as soon as his mind realised he no longer had to put on a show, John's legs crumpled beneath him and he fell to his knees, resting his head on the side of the bed and gripping Dean's hand in his own. _

"_Oh God…" He moaned, words muffled by the sheets, "I'm so sorry. I should have known. I shouldn't have let you come."_

"_You heard the Doc, he'll be fine." A voice echoed through the room from the doorway causing John's head to snap up suddenly to stare at the intruder._

"_Get out." He warned; voice low and deadly._

"_Ouch. John, I'm hurt." Halloway teased, walking further into the room and closing the door behind him._

_Watching him, John slowly began to rise from his position, "You sick son of a bitch! I should kill you! If you don't get out of my sight in the next two minutes I swear to God I will."_

"_Now, now Johnny boy. We've still got work to do. We've got a beast to kill."_

"_Why the hell would I work with you? You set my son up as bait! And don't think about using the 'innocent people will die' line on me."_

_Halloway paced the room gently, like a tiger watching its prey, "Oh I wasn't because they probably won't. You see, it marked your son and it'll just keep going after him until either he or it are dead."_

"_You knew… didn't you? You played me." _

"_We've got it trapped now and we can keep your boy safe just so long as you play by the rules."_

"_Rules? This isn't a game! My son's life is in danger you bastard! How am I supposed to watch out for him? Salt doesn't work on this thing… How am I supposed to keep it out, eh? _It's _got _us _trapped."_

"_You underestimate me. Lambs blood. Paint it on your doors and it'll keep the thing out until we're ready to take it down."_

"_I'm going to kill you."_

_The young hunter shrugged and made his way back towards the door, turning back only for another dig at John, "And John… next time you take the high horse and pretend your above using someone as bait, check your history. I'm sure Ellen Harvelle and little Jo would agree with me on that… then again, do they even know?"_

"_Get the hell out!" John all but screamed, his hand still locked tight around his son's._

"_I'll be back tomorrow. Just try not to take it personal Johnny boy… it's nothing… just business. I needed a first born son… yours just happened to have the best résumé."_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

"I think it was a wolf… or some big cat. It was black and the claws… it had to be some sort of animal right?"

Michael Andre had been on duty for a straight ten hours and was tired. The caffeine in his system had long since been depleted and his patience was wearing thin. He'd been called into the hospital to interview victims of an alleged attack. The youngest victim was fast asleep, and even if he hadn't been, Michael would have had to wait for the kid's parent or guardian to show up before he could interview him. As it was, he was stuck battling it out between a man who wasn't sure what he'd seen and another man who was pretty sure he hadn't even had a chance to see.

The former was really grating on him and all he wanted to do was just go home and sleep, "Look, Mr…?"

"Byrne. Mr Byrne."

"Mr Byrne, if you could just, I dunno, ease off the sugar long enough to tell me what exactly it was you saw then maybe I would be able to answer your questions."

"Nah… I think it was definitely an animal." The man nodded, completely oblivious that Michael had even spoken.

"Okay… right… an animal. Fine! It was an animal! Look – just come down the station tomorrow so someone, who is preferably not me, can take your statements. Okay?"

The second man nodded and as Officer Andre turned away, he was almost certain he caught a glimpse of him elbowing the first man in the ribs.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"What the hell was that for?" Dean groaned, hand moving to his barely injured ribs.

"I should be asking you that. You're lucky he didn't call for a doctor to take you off and run tests on that freaky brain of yours." Sam hissed, "_I think it was an animal_… seriously Dean? You couldn't think of any better tactics then to just annoy the guy?"

"He was pissing me off… and it worked, didn't it? As for the statement… better it be tomorrow than today. They could run a check on our IDs and at least this way we might have some time until they come looking."

"Time for what? Time to bring another kid into hospital? To get a few more scratches?"

"It won't go after anyone else Sam. It likes to finish what it starts."

Before Sam had the chance to question what Dean meant, a timid cough came from a foot or so behind them, causing both brothers to turn simultaneously. A woman stood before them, she looked to be in her late thirties, dark auburn hair framing her face. One arm hung limply to the side whilst the opposite hand gripped it in a nervous manner.

"The doctor told me that you were the men that brought Stuart in. They told me… you saved his life." The woman spoke gently, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You're his mom?" Sam questioned and she nodded.

"Thank you so much. You have no idea how much it means to me…"

"How is he?"

"He's fine… Doc said I could take him home when he wakes up." She smiled appreciatively and nodded one last time before making to move away, "I just wanted to thank you guys."

Dean took a quick step forward, halting her progress and gazed down into her eyes, "Would you mind if we speak to Stuart when he wakes up?"

Her face fell into a puzzled frown but she shrugged and gave them her permission for which Dean was grateful. He didn't think he could explain to this woman just what had happened to her son, but if he could get Stuart to understand that he was still in danger, then he might be able to prevent the kid from dying.

Digging into his pocket, Sam pulled out an old receipt and borrowed a pen from a passing nurse. He could see that their contact with this family would be far from over, especially after Dean's ominous statement. He quickly scribbled down his and Dean's cell phone numbers and handed it to the woman, "Call us if you need anything." He told her.

"Thank you." She repeated, making her way back to her son's room.

As soon as she was out of view, Sam turned to face Dean with a narrowed gaze and questions burning in his throat, "Why do you want to see Stuart?"

"Wanna make sure the kid's okay. Not a crime Sammy." Dean avoided, stepping away from Sam and towards the coffee machine.

Praying for the ability to cope with his hard-headed brother, Sam sighed and followed him, determinedly pushing further. "You said this thing like's to finish what it starts."

"And?"

"Why didn't it finish you?"

Dean's body froze and he stopped fishing through his pockets for coins and turned to look at his brother, Sam could have sworn his face was turning red and his eyes weren't too far behind. The anger was evident and Sam ignored any lingering guilt, firmly setting his face, "Well?"

Dean opened his mouth to reply but shut it a mere second later, his lip curled up in the right corner into a sardonic smile and he shook his head in disbelief. The question was simple, as was the answer. But the manner in which it was asked felt like an accusation, a dagger through the heart…

"Well it was one of those rare times that no one _died _to save me, if that's what you're asking." He finally retorted, and pulled out a couple of coins, inserting them angrily into the machine.

Sam hung his head and ran a hand through his hair, "I didn't mean… I just don't get what the big secret is… you don't wanna tell me but you're gonna have to when we talk to Stua…" And then something slid into place, the pieces fitting, "You're gonna give him your amulet, aren't you?"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	8. Hickory, Dickory, Dock

.-.-.-.** Primoris Filius**.-.-.-.

Summary: Everything has a story - every scar, every tear, every weapon, every amulet... So when the boys come across a new hunt with a familiar M.O. a valuable piece of jewellery might be needed to protect an innocent life once again. Takes place in both the present and the past... Deancentric (when aren't my stories?)

Disclaimer: Already said it… :P

Warnings: Typical bad language that you expect from the Winchesters, particularly Dean… Decided to set this after Season 2 but before Season 3… guess I wanted that extra angst factor!!!

Hey! I really wanted to get Abomination updated before I tried writing anything else and now I got that up I've managed to get a new chapter for this, woo! And I thought I'd put it up now. Again… not much action but hopefully you'll enjoy!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

8. Hickory, Dickory, Dock

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

The foam cup shot down into place below the steaming liquid that started streaming into it once the eldest Winchester jammed his fingers against the 'Black Coffee' button. Sam was constantly surprising him with bits of information that the younger brother just shouldn't know… shouldn't be allowed to know until Dean was ready to share. But damn it… Sam knew him better than anyone and he knew Sam enough to know that Sam wouldn't stop trying to figure him out.

"What the hell are you on about Sammy?" He tried to play ignorance and avoided eye contact as he gripped the now full cup and lifted it from the machine.

"Since we started this hunt… you keep, I dunno, making sure that amulet's still around your neck or something. You don't even know you're doing it. It's why this thing didn't finish you isn't it? It's why it didn't get you last night."

"It's just a piece of jewellery." He felt the lie sting as it rolled off his tongue and Sam sighed with anger at his obvious denial of the truth.

"You still planning on telling me that when I see it hanging around Stuart's neck?"

Dean glanced at Sam's eyes for a moment but just as quickly turned away, "It's not like I need it anymore."

The words hit Sam harder than any fist; he felt his guts tighten at the reminder of Dean's fate and the ticking clock that he was sure he could nearly always hear. "Dean… How are we supposed to kill this thing if it kills you first? I can't do this by myself… I need you with me."

"Sam…" Dean tried to reason, closing his eyes as he imagined his puppy eyed brother staring at his back, "This thing… far as I know… it's never killed anyone over the age of twenty-one… I'll be fine."

"Well, after seeing it pounce on you last night I think it's pretty willing to bend that one rule and I think you know it too. If you give that amulet to Stuart this thing is gonna come after _you._"

"Yeah well, better me than some kid who has no idea what he's dealing with."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_Slowly, very slowly, he became aware of himself once again. His breath hitched as the pain ebbed through his system and nearly sent him back to darkness once again. He felt like his chest was on fire, he could still feel the claws but maybe that was just his imagination. His head throbbed and a wave of nausea washed over him as he tried to lift it up. _

_Something was stopping him from moving freely, he tried to wriggle free of whatever it was and when it refused to move he began to thrash. Disoriented and his eyelids too heavy to lift, he called out to the one person he knew could help._

"_Dad…" He groaned and something heavy fell onto his arms, warm and comforting but at the same time the sudden appearance of it made him panic and he tried to get away._

"_Hey, hey, it's okay kiddo. I'm here. You're alright." The strong voice that belonged to his father sounded so exhausted and worried, "You're safe."_

_And he stilled, forcing his eyelids open so he could gaze up at the blurry figure of his father, "Dad?"_

"_That's it. How you feeling Dean?" _

_Dean didn't reply; he just gazed around the room he was in with a puzzled expression as his vision began to clear. He recognised the atmosphere and the clear walls and the restraining blanket that was now twisted from his struggling, not because he'd been in this room before but because he'd been in rooms like it before, "What's going on?"_

"_You got hurt Dean, pretty bad." John explained, the words catching in his throat and almost refusing to move past the lump that had formed._

"_Oh…" Was all Dean could say… that explained the pain._

"_What do you remember?" _

_Dean frowned as he tried to think back beyond waking up, "We were on a hunt right? Some guy asked you to help him out..."_

"_Yeah, go on." John prompted when his son paused, "What else?"_

"_I was talking to you and then… I dropped my guard…" He hung his head as he worked his way through the jumbled memories, "It came from behind and I should have known, I should have heard it or something… I let it get the drop on me… I should have…"_

"_Dean, it wasn't your fault. What happened wasn't your fault. We weren't prepared. _I_ wasn't prepared." John lowered his head and tried to catch Dean's gaze and when he eventually did, he half smiled and stood up._

"_Where you going?" Dean asked immediately, head snapping up._

"_I'm gonna get your Doctor and I'm gonna call Sammy."_

"_Don't tell him Dad…" He pleaded, biting his bottom lip, "Don't tell him I got hurt."_

"_He's gonna notice Dean. It's not like you can hide it. You've got bruises all over and he'll wonder what the hell's taken us so long to get home." John reasoned but Dean shook his head._

"_Dad…"_

"_Fine. But don't blame me when he does find out."_

"_Thanks." And Dean relaxed a little, allowing his Dad to leave, but before he managed to make it out the door, he had one more question, "Dad… is it dead?"_

_John stopped and looked down at the ground, unable to answer his son's question. He didn't want to tell him that the creature was still alive and that it would most probably try and come after him again, he didn't want to put that on him when he'd only just woken up._

"_Dad?"_

"_Get some rest Dean… I'll be back soon." And John left the room, closing the door behind him._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

By ten o'clock, Stuart was wide awake and extremely eager to leave the hospital. He was already trying to get out of bed to get dressed but his mother was insistent that he let the Doctor check him over first. By the time they finished with him and told him he was fine to go but he had to take it easy, he was already in his jeans and pulling on his shirt. He was just zipping up his jacket when Sam and Dean walked into the room.

"Heya kid." Dean said and Stuart lifted his head up to look at them both.

"You're the guys from last night." He replied, cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah…"

"What was that thing?"

Dean smirked as he looked the thirteen year old over, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"I didn't imagine it though… right? I didn't make it up."

"No but I bet you probably wish you had." Sam sighed and stood by the door whilst Dean moved further into the room.

"Look, that thing that attacked you is dangerous. More dangerous than anything you could imagine and I'm pretty sure if it gets the chance, it's gonna want another shot." Dean began quickly explaining, but Stuart shook his head in disbelief.

"No… I'm not gonna take anymore shortcuts through places like that again, I swear."

"Doesn't matter. You can swear all you like but if this thing wants to come and finish the job, it will and that means you're still in danger. I know you probably don't believe a word I'm saying… or at least you don't wanna believe it but I'm telling the truth."

"But it can't be…"

"You saw how that thing couldn't touch me last night right?"

Stuart nodded numbly, not really one hundred percent sure of what he saw but the question held hope that he would have a chance against whatever this thing was.

In one swift movement, the worn leather cord that was attached to the amulet was up and over Dean's head and he held it out to the kid, "Wear this. Don't ever take it off. It'll protect you."

"But what if it doesn't?"

"It will."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_Dean stared up at the ceiling without really seeing it. His Dad hadn't answered him. All he needed was a 'yes' or 'no', he didn't need the question to be tiptoed around. The answer was clearly a 'no, it's not dead', so why would his dad avoid telling him? Was his dad really that disappointed in him?_

_The door creaked open and Dean let his eyes fall to it long enough to see that it wasn't his Dad but instead it was the other hunter. The guy looked happy enough, a grin spread across his features, so that must have meant they'd managed to the kill the son of a bitch, right?_

"_Hey Deano."_

"_It's Dean." He replied flatly; he'd never been one for nicknames, not unless it was his Dad calling him them. Sammy had tried a couple once but they never stuck. Although there had been a girl once that was pretty good with nicknames…nothing like cupcake or hugglebear…_

"_Dean." Halloway corrected himself, closing the door behind him as he made his way over to the bed. "How you feeling?"_

"_Just peachy." _

"_Not very talkative though… two word answers and all."_

_Dean lifted his head and pulled himself into a sitting position to stare at Halloway, his gaze narrowing at the elder hunter, "Is it dead?"_

"_No." Halloway smiled and Dean felt his heart clench, "Scared it off is all we managed. Beat you up pretty nicely before it went though."_

"_Thanks" Dean snarled._

"_Seriously kid, you okay?" _

_Dean recognised the tone in the mans voice, he'd used it plenty of times before. It was false concern… so sincere it almost sounded real, "I'm fine."_

"_Hey, I'm only asking. I mean if this thing's still out there we've gotta be ready, right?"_

"_What do you want?"_

"_Suspicious much? I'm only trying to be considerate."_

"_Yeah well, I don't need it." Dean's eyes fell on the door as he hoped for his father to come through it… or anyone for that matter. He didn't like being in the same room as Halloway, at least not alone. He knew his Dad had his reservations about the guy and Dean was getting them too._

"_Right then… I'll head off." Halloway tilted his head towards Dean, his lip still curved into what appeared to be a permanent smirk, and strode back towards the door, "Catch you later Dean."_

_The hunter opened the door just as John was about to reach for the handle. He received a silent glare as he passed the father and gave a wink in return; taking his leave of what would be a very tense atmosphere._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

When they finally arrived back at the motel room after a long and stony silent drive, Sam grabbed his duffel and raked through it for a fresh set of clothes. He was determined on being the first in the shower. He heard Dean drop down onto the bed behind him, the exhaustion clearly showing in the tiresome sigh that escaped from the eldest's lips.

"You might wanna at least crawl out of those clothes before you fall asleep." Sam said simply, his tone as even as he could get it.

He was furious though. His blood was boiling and adrenaline pumped through him as the anger refused to leave. There was no way he could fall asleep no matter how tired he was. He loved his brother, how couldn't he? But he was so frustrating. Always playing the hero… always playing the martyr.

"I don't even wanna move from this spot." Dean moaned, rolling his shoulders against the reasonably soft duvet and closing his eyes.

"Well, that's your choice." _Always your choice… no matter what I say._

"Saaam…" Dean pleaded, understanding the underlying message. He opened one eye to look at his younger brother before opening the other and propping himself up on his elbows.

Sam shrugged and took his brother in for a moment then turned and headed to the bathroom, "Whatever Dean."

As he closed the door behind him, he distinctly heard his brother swear, followed by several thumps and a lot of shuffling that indicated he was doing as Sam told him to… for once. Resting his back against the door, Sam let out a long and weary breath. Thoughts tumbled down onto him, nearly bringing him to his knees and he pushed himself away.

He turned the hot water tap and left his hand under the streaming water until he was sure it was warm enough. Easing himself from his clothes, he let them fall into an untidy heap on the flower and climbed into the shower. The steam slowly filled the room and he closed his eyes against the heavy onslaught of water, pounding at his flesh like it was massaging him.

He just needed to relax… then he could think about things clearly, or sleep and then think about things clearly. The world was laughing at them, that much he was sure of. The Winchester Brothers – ultimate comedy act for the evil, damned and just down right crazy.

"What am I supposed to do?" He asked himself and maybe even the higher power who rarely listened and never answered.

By the time he eventually dragged himself from the shower, Dean was fast asleep under the covers and his dirty clothes were in a jumbled mess on the floor at the end of his bed. Sam sat himself on the other bed and stared at his brother for several moments before giving into exhaustion and letting his own tired body rest and worn-out mind close down.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	9. Retreat

.-.-.-.** Primoris Filius**.-.-.-.

Summary: Everything has a story - every scar, every tear, every weapon, every amulet... So when the boys come across a new hunt with a familiar M.O. a valuable piece of jewellery might be needed to protect an innocent life once again. Takes place in both the present and the past... Deancentric (when aren't my stories?)

Disclaimer: Already said it… :P

Warnings: Typical bad language that you expect from the Winchesters, particularly Dean… Decided to set this after Season 2 but before Season 3… guess I wanted that extra angst factor!!!

Hey! Got another update! There'll be more action in the next chapter so I'll try and get started on that soon.  Thanks for sticking with me and reading!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

9. Retreat

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

"_What was that about?" John asked as he entered the room, immediately shutting the door behind him._

_Dean tried not to let the relief show on his face as his father walked over to his bed. He shrugged in reply and looked away, towards the curtained window, "What did Sam say?"_

"_He's been up most the night… he wouldn't admit it though. I told him we got sidetracked, I didn't say how but I think he guessed." John sighed and took a seat on the end of the bed, "Dean, what was Halloway doing in here?"_

"_He was asking how I was." He continued staring at the curtains, tracing the patterns with his eyes._

"_Anything else…?" John pushed, refusing to drop the subject. Halloway had used his son as bait but he wasn't sure how Dean would handle that knowledge if he found out._

_Finally, Dean turned to look at his Dad, "Yeah actually… he told me that thing isn't dead."_

_John closed his eyes and looked down, knowing that the gesture was an admittance of defeat. He hadn't told Dean that it was dead… but he hadn't told him it was alive either, hiding the truth still meant lying. He'd lied to his sons so often that sometimes he didn't even know he was doing it. They always knew though, and he could tell that it hurt them… especially Dean._

"_Dad?"_

"_It got away." John admitted._

"_Great…" Dean ran a hand through his hair, scruffing it up, and looked up to the ceiling. He was disappointed in himself and he didn't doubt that's his Dad was too, no matter what the guy said differently._

"_Dean… I need you to listen to me."_

_At his father's serious tone, a request bordering on an order, Dean dropped his gaze and looked his Dad in the eye, brow furrowing._

"_This thing is gonna kill again and there's no telling how soon but we need to stop it. No heroics, no going off alone and no leaving the motel room unless we have to. We need to do some serious research, me and you, and we need to find a way to kill this thing so it won't come back. Halloway said something and I'm pretty sure he's right… I don't want him to be but I don't see what he'd have to gain from lying."_

"_What did he say?"_

"_He said this thing's persistent… once it chooses a victim it won't stop until the victim's dead. This thing chose you Dean and I'm not prepared to loose you."_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

Dean lay on his right side, his left too banged up and bruised, one hand snaked under his pillow and the other hung limply over the side of his bed. He was completely oblivious to the world and to his young brother who lay sprawled out in a dreamless sleep on the bed next to his; that was until he rolled over onto his back and a sharp pain shot up through his body.

The pain brought him back to consciousness quicker than any cold bucket of water could have. He sat up slowly and took deep breaths, waiting for the pain to pass. His eyes searched the room, eventually landing on his sleeping brother. He looked so peaceful, blankets covering the bulky lump.

A shadow passed by the window and Dean's head snapped around to watch, heart thrumming in his chest. He saw it disappear and cursed. It was probably just a person, or passing headlights… but still… How could he be so stupid… this thing could attack them at anytime and the most defence he had was a knife under his pillow. A faint memory nagged at him and he threw his sheets off and grabbed a pair of jeans and a shirt, quickly tugging them on, followed by his boots and jacket.

Snatching the keys to the Impala up from the table, he glanced at Sam once more before deciding the youngest Winchester would probably still be asleep by the time he got back, and he opened the motel door and left the room as quietly as he could. It was getting dark now, streetlights flickering on in the late dusk as the cold breeze whipped at Dean's face, making him wish he could just crawl back into bed where it was at least warm.

Wrapping his coat around him tighter he strolled over to the Impala, his eyes darting back and forth for any signs of danger. It took mere seconds before his black beauty was unlocked and he was sitting in the driver's seat, key in the ignition and engine roaring to life. Now he just had to find some place that supplied lamb's blood.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam rolled over in a half sleep and stretched, lingering dreams disappearing as his body and mind slowly began to wake. Awareness seeped in from the edges but he kept his eyes closed and just listened. The room was silent. It didn't bother him at first, not until he realised that he couldn't even hear his brother.

As worry washed over him, his eyes snapped open and he jerked up, gaze landing on the empty bed next to his. The covers had been cast to the side carelessly, twisted as if Dean had been in a rush or a struggle. A quick scan of the room showed his clothes from the previous day to be missing, along with his boots and jacket.

"Dean?" Sam called, throat constricting tightly as he squeezed the name out.

When his brother didn't reply, he stood up, so quickly his vision blurred for a second, and crossed the room to open the bathroom door and check inside. He knocked once and then turned the handle, the room was dark but he could tell there was no one inside. His eyes fell on the table where the Impala's keys had laid and cursed when he saw no sign of them.

"Damn it Dean, what are you playing at?"

After several seconds of staring around the room, Sam began to pace, left hand coming up to cover his mouth whilst his right nervously tapped his leg in thought. His phone sat on the cabinet between the beds, right next to Dean's… so it was useless calling him. And he had no idea where his brother had gone or how long he'd been gone for. The clock standing with the phones told Sam it was ten o'clock, and the darkness outside told him it was night.

Just as he decided to pull his jeans on, he heard the sound of a car pulling up followed by the engine dying. He quickly zipped the jeans up and fastened the button, heading for the lone window he peered outside and at the smooth black car parked outside. The door creaked open and Dean climbed out, unharmed and holding a large paper bag.

"Shopping?" Sam growled, tearing away from the window and towards the door, which he pulled roughly open so he could stare incredulously at his brother, "You went for shopping?!?"

Dean's head snapped up and his eyes met Sam's, immediately a sheepish smile formed on his face as he locked the Impala and walked towards the room, "Kinda needed to Sammy."

"And what did you get? M&M's? Beer? Just what was so important you decided to sneak out…?"

"Lamb's blood." He answered simply, balancing the bag and reaching inside to pull out a container with a sloppy reddish black liquid inside.

"Lamb's blood?" Sam repeated, brows furrowing in confusion, "Why?"

"Protection."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_It was mid afternoon before the Doctors finally let Dean leave the hospital, even then they were reluctant but John insisted that it would be better for everyone. He wanted to get Dean back to what felt like safe grounds, where he could also keep an eye on Sam. Before the motel room could really be declared as safe though, John knew he needed a little something else – after all, salt wasn't enough to stop this thing._

_The pair parked up outside the room and John sat staring straight ahead, he could feel Dean's eyes on him and after several intense seconds, he turned his head a little and spoke._

"_Dean… I want you to rest, okay? Just take it easy." He paused and looked up to see the curtain twitching and Sammy's face disappearing behind it, "I know you want Sam to think you're fine but you're not, you were hurt badly and you need to recover fully."_

"_Dad…" Dean started and John could already hear the words echoing in his mind before his boy even said them, "I'm okay… really…"_

_John nodded, Dean's lie weighing heavily on him. Deep down inside, he wanted to turn to his son and look him straight in the eye and tell him that sometimes he didn't have to be okay, that it was normal and that no one was invincible, "Yeah."_

_Reaching for the handle, Dean burrowed his brow in confusion when John didn't do the same, but instead turned the key in the ignition. Sam came tumbling out of the motel room and over to the car, searching the two men over through the glass. John wound his window down and shook his head when Dean brought his hand away from the handle, indicating that he wanted his son to get out._

"_I've got a couple of things to pick up, so I want you both to just stay inside and behave." He told both his sons as Dean climbed out and shut the door behind him, "Usual rules – no leaving the room, no answering the door to anyone and no killing each other."_

"_What about that other hunter?" Sam asked, coming closer to the driver's door._

"_That includes him." John ordered, a shadow passing over his face, "He deals with me and me alone."_

_The pair of them nodded, adding an obedient 'yes sir' to their reply before he rolled his window back up and pulled out of the car park. He was already gone before they finally went into the room._

_Sam watched his brother closely, noting the way he favoured one side and grimaced when he moved too quickly. He grabbed his book from the table and wandered over to where Dean had dropped onto the bed, plonking himself on the floor beside it._

"_Quit it Sam." _

"_Not doing anything." The fourteen year old shot, flipping through the pages to find his place._

"_You're hovering." _

"_No I'm not."_

_Dean sighed and looked down at Sam, "I'm fine Sam, so just quit bugging me."_

"_Dad told me everything you know." He declared suddenly, letting the book fall closed._

"_No he didn't"_

"_He told me you got hurt." Sam insisted, watching his brother carefully once again._

"_No he didn't." Dean repeated, glaring hard at his younger brother who immediately picked himself up, only to plonk down on the spare bed and fold his arms in a silent huff, "You're a crap lair."_

"_So are you."_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

Sam stared hard at the drying blood on the door and shook his head, he couldn't help but wonder how long before someone noticed it… or how long before the manager noticed and tried to kick them out. That would be just what they needed. He closed the door and turned back into the room where Dean had pulled open the laptop on the table.

"So how do we kill this thing?"

"Bull horn tipped with gold." Dean replied simply, hand hovering over his cell phone for a moment before returning to the laptop.

"A what now?" Sam raised an eyebrow and took a seat opposite Dean, resting his elbows on the table.

"I ain't repeating myself Sammy."

"Fine… fine… is that how you and Dad killed it before?"

Dean's fingers froze for a second and Sam saw his eyes shift to the side for a second before returning to whatever he was doing. Asides from that, he acted as if he hadn't even heard Sam.

"Dean?"

"No."

At that, Sam straightened himself up and looked his brother up and down, brow creasing slightly, "What do you mean 'no'?"

"We couldn't find one."

"Then how did you kill it?"

Dean paused again, looking away before letting his eyes lock with Sam's. For a moment, Sam thought he wasn't going to answer and for a moment – he wasn't going to. "We didn't."

"Then what? You just let it go?" Sam asked incredulously.

"We found some incantation, okay? Sent it to Hell…"

"Then how did it get out?"

Dean lifted at eyebrow at Sam, a sardonic smile appearing on his face, "How did a lot of demons get out?"

Sam nodded thoughtfully, knowing exactly what Dean was implying. When the Hell Gate opened it let a lot of nasty demons out.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	10. Next Contestant

.-.-.-.** Primoris Filius**.-.-.-.

Summary: Everything has a story - every scar, every tear, every weapon, every amulet... So when the boys come across a new hunt with a familiar M.O. a valuable piece of jewellery might be needed to protect an innocent life once again. Takes place in both the present and the past... Deancentric (when aren't my stories?)

Disclaimer: Already said it… :P

Warnings: Typical bad language that you expect from the Winchesters, particularly Dean… Decided to set this after Season 2 but before Season 3… guess I wanted that extra angst factor!!

One upon a time… there was a story… and it seemed like the story had been abandoned but it hadn't! :D Yep! I'm finally back with another chapter of Primoris Filius! The world is not coming to an end… Hell hasn't frozen over… I just finally managed to get my muse for this story to wake its lazy ass back up. It's been so long that a recap probably won't even do it… hell, I had to read the story right back from the beginning and I wrote the damn thing.

I can promise though that it won't take so long to update again. I want to get this story, along with my other current ones finished before I go back to college in September/October.

Right, quick recap:

Past: John took a hunt with a guy name Halloway who was hiding things from him… turns out the thing they were hunting killed first born sons and Halloway decided he wanted to use Dean as bait… Dean got hurt but it seems the thing isn't quite finished with him yet so John has to find some protection.

Present: Sam and Dean come across a series of murders bearing resemblance to case way back when and after researching it a little, Sam finally gets Dean to admit that they're hunting the same thing and that once attacked Dean. When checking out the possible hunting ground, they run into a boy named Stuart who is attacked by the thing they're hunting…

But they manage to save him and take him to the hospital where Dean gives him his amulet as protection. Back at the room, Sam asks how his brother and father managed to defeat it in the past but Dean reluctantly tells him that they just sent it to hell and now it seems to be back after the hell gate opened…

And I think that about covers it…

_666_

10. Next Contestant

_666_

_August 1997_

_It hadn't taken long to gather lambs blood. He hadn't expected it to. Of course by the time he arrived back at the room, he also hadn't expected to see Halloway parked up and leaning against the side of his car waiting for him. John approached carefully, watching Halloway as he parked the car directly in front of the room._

_Halloway just leaned there, tapping his foot against the side of his car as if in time to music that only he could hear. He didn't even acknowledge John as he pulled up and dragged himself from the car. The first time he even acted like he'd seen the eldest Winchester was when John was directly in front of him and Halloway had to admit that the guy was definitely intimidating._

"_What are you doing here?" John demanded, letting his words fly out of his mouth along with the angry spittle that followed them._

"_Thought I'd check up on things, keep an eye on your sons…" Halloway smiled… that snarky smile that made John want to pull every single one of the guy's teeth out, slowly and painfully._

"_Maybe you didn't quite understand me when I said that I'm going to kill you."_

"_But you left the hospital so quickly… didn't even tell me you were checking him out." Halloway feigned a hurt look but smiled once more before carrying on, "See, I don't think you would kill me because you need me to help figure out a way to stop this thing… we've found out that silver is useless, rock salt pisses it off…"_

"_And you piss me off." John spat back, fist tightening as he fought the urge to start throwing punches, "I'm sure I'll do just fine without your help."_

_Halloway shrugged and pushed himself away from the car, the movement bringing his face so close to John's that he could feel the man's hot raging breath. He didn't back away; he wouldn't show that weakness… this was all business after all. "Let me know when you change your mind. Or when it comes for Dean… which ever comes first."_

_John didn't reply, just stood firm as Halloway bristled passed and to the front of his car where he climbed in and started the engine. But he just had to continue to provoke John before driving off, adding one last thing before letting his foot hit the gas peddle, "It might be sooner than you think Johnny boy."_

_Then he was gone. Driving off to God knows where and John watched, fists clenched, still steaming and wishing that he'd thrown that punch afterall._

_666_

Present Day

As wide as the hunting community was, the Winchesters didn't trust many people and from past experience no one could blame them. There were a few hunters that they'd met every now and then and had shared hunts with and gotten useful information from. Always a trustworthy and reliable source, Bobby Singer tended to pull through for the pair of them…

But not this time.

He had no idea where the boys could get their hands on a gold tipped bull horn. He had contacts who could be of help and at that moment in time, that was going to have to do.

"What about another amulet?" Sam asked conversationally after coming off the phone to Bobby.

"What about it?" Dean looked up from John's journal to stare at Sam; an eyebrow raised suggesting that he knew more than he was letting on.

"Well, there could be more, right? Yours doesn't have to be the only one out there."

"You know what, you're a genius Sam." Dean mocked, searching for Sam's laptop which was buried amongst the paperwork, "Let me just log onto Ebay…"

Sighing heavily, Sam put his hand on Dean's arm to stop his movements, "Instead of acting like a jerk, why don't you just tell me where you and Dad got yours from."

"Friend of a friend of Dad's." He proclaimed proudly, but didn't go into detail, instead waiting for the next inevitable question.

"Which friend?"

_Bingo! _Dean exclaimed in his mind before answering Sam, "Pastor Jim."

"But he's…"

"Dead. I know… and somehow I don't see him giving us answers from beyond the grave, even with what we know."

"Well that's just brilliant!" Sam threw himself back into his seat, sliding down a little in a sulking manner.

Shaking his head and looking back down at the journal, Dean found himself cursing and slamming it closed on the table, "Useless… all of it. I should have made a copy of that damn incantation or something. Damn it!"

"Dude, it's not like either of you figured it would come back."

Head low, Dean lifted his eyes and focused on the younger Winchester, staring hard. He wanted to believe what Sam had said but in truth, if he'd felt the need to wear the amulet then why hadn't he kept the incantation too. He felt bare without it, naked and unprotected but he knew he couldn't say anything to Sam.

When Dean's gaze finally lifted so that he could rest his head against the table in thought, Sam ran a hand through his hair and across his mouth, trying to stifle the yawn that just kept trying to escape. The attempt was not lost on Dean who looked up once more.

"It's nearly six in the morning Sam, you're obviously tired…"

"Am not." Sam pouted like a petulant child, fighting back another yawn. But his brother just carried on as if he hadn't heard him.

"Sleep Sam. You'll be better off for it. We've got a long day ahead of us tomorrow and the earlier we start the better."

"I only woke up a few hours ago, I'm fine."

"Not if I send you out on a five mile run you won't be."

Grunting something about never being fine after a five mile run, Sam couldn't help but noticed the red rings around his brother's eyes, "Make you a deal…"

Eying Sam suspiciously, Dean nodded, "Okay, I'm listening."

"You've been up longer than me so if you sleep, then I'll sleep."

"What? No way. You're just being ridiculous now."

"Then an all nighter it is then."

It took another half hour and the words blurring on the page for Dean to finally accept the deal, reluctantly climbing into bed for just a couple of hours extra sleep.

_666_

_August 1997_

_By the time John had finished with the lamb's blood, he walked into room to find his eldest fast asleep on his bed and the no longer little Sammy curled up at the bottom of the bed with a book, but also lost in dreamland. Setting the paper bag on the table, John gathered Sam up as best he could and laid him in his own bed, covering him with the blanket before doing the same to Dean._

_They looked so peaceful._

_He could feel his eyes burning with the unspent tears as he watched them and thought about all they had been through and all they had coming. It wasn't the first time he'd regretted bringing them into this fight._

_Fighting back the self-hatred and anger, John pushed himself onto the matter at hand and pulled his phone from his pocket, grabbing a seat at the table whilst dialling an old friend. It wasn't long before the Pastor picked up, voice light and eager like it always was… no matter the time, no matter the circumstances… always ready to be there._

"_God it's good to hear your voice Jim."_

"_John?" Jim laughed gently down the phone, "What's a devil like yourself doing calling at this hour?"_

"_How about asking for forgiveness?" He said it light heartedly, but that didn't stop his friend from picking up on the broken man's dejected words._

"_Ask away." The two words meant more than what they said, they meant 'You can tell me anything' and 'I won't judge you' among other things._

"_Screwed up…" John started, pausing as he got his head around what exactly he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it, "I got suckered into this hunt with a guy called Halloway. I thought maybe I could trust him…"_

_He explained everything that had happened, from his initial suspicions and how stupid he'd been not to trust his gut to Dean getting hurt because the guy had used him as bait, and Jim let him. It wasn't until John had explained everything and had gone onto how he'd thought of maybe dropping the boys off at Jim's place so he could just focus on hunting the thing that Jim stopped him._

"_Any other circumstances I'd have said yes right away John… but if this thing really does have its heart set on Dean, then there's no telling that it won't follow him. You could end up putting him in more danger taking him away from a protected area." Jim sighed sympathetically._

"_I shouldn't have taken him with me in the first place. It was stupid and reckless."_

"_You weren't to know."_

"_I should have figured it out, I shouldn't have trusted Halloway… hell, if this had been my gig from the beginning I'd have covered every base… I should have just treated it the same way instead of actually believing that some stranger would fill me in on everything."_

"_He intentionally lied to you John. He set you and Dean up. Get over it before it eats you up. We'll figure something out."_

_666_

Present Day

It was early afternoon before either of the brothers awoke. The deep annoying vibrating sound that came from Dean's phone waking the pair of them. Dean rolled over in a half sleep and felt across the cabinet for the offending object with every intention of turning it off but allowed his eyes to focus on the unknown number.

Curiosity getting the better of him, he flipped the phone open, brows pulling together, "Hello?"

"Mr Winchester?" The timid voice asked, the name grabbing his attention.

He pulled himself up in bed, grabbing a pillow from behind him to throw at Sam in order to wake the younger sibling up, "Who is this?"

"We met at the hospital… you and your friend saved my son…"

"Stuart right? You're Stuarts mom?" He saw Sam grumbling and pulling himself up on the other bed, listening to the one sided conversation.

"Yeah, Joanne… Joanna Grant."

"I don't mean to be… rude… but why are you calling?" He closed his eyes, cringing at the reproachful look he saw Sam shoot at him. He could already hear Sam telling him off for being abrupt but he couldn't help it… he hated being woken up from the middle of a dream… especially good ones.

"Stuart's missing. I didn't know who else to call… I tried the police but they said that he hasn't been missing long enough; they said he's probably just out showing his scars off to his friends. But he would have told me where he was… unless…"

"Unless what?"

"Unless he'd gone back to where you found him."

"And why would he do that?" Dean asked, growing more and more tempted to pass the phone over to his brother. Who did this woman think they were? Private eyes? "I told him this thing was dangerous… I'm pretty sure I made it clear that it's pretty deadly."

For a moment Joanna was silent and Dean wondered whether she was going to hang up, but then she answered. "Last night a man showed up at the house. He said he was gonna hunt the thing that hurt Stu… but he wanted his help. I told him he was being stupid but he left his number and now I can't find it…"

"And you think your son went with him?"

"He made it sound like an adventure. Look, I'm sorry. I just thought you and your friend could help… you seemed like you could but I guess I was wrong…"

"Wait… Joanna, wait. What did this guy look like?"

"He was just a normal guy."

"No tats? Piercings? Scars?"

A thoughtful pause and then, "Yeah actually… he had this scar on his face, went all the way down his neck too…"


	11. Slow Ride

.-.-.-.** Primoris Filius**.-.-.-.

Summary: Everything has a story - every scar, every tear, every weapon, every amulet... So when the boys come across a new hunt with a familiar M.O. a valuable piece of jewellery might be needed to protect an innocent life once again. Takes place in both the present and the past... Deancentric (when aren't my stories?)

Disclaimer: Already said it… :P

Warnings: Typical bad language that you expect from the Winchesters, particularly Dean… Decided to set this after Season 2 but before Season 3… guess I wanted that extra angst factor!!

Here were go! Another update, aptly named slow ride 'cause there's not much action but its coming. Hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

11. Slow Ride

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_Head in his hands, he rested his elbows on the table and sighed. Jim had said he'd see what he could find out and told John to just stay put and look after the boys until he did so. He felt like he had no energy, every drop drained by worry and anxiety. Every little noise and every moving shadow bugged him more than usual, causing him to jump and stare at each spot in turn until he knew it didn't pose a threat to his sons. _

_He just didn't know what this thing was capable of, and until he knew for sure that lamb's blood would hold it back then he just couldn't risk falling asleep, couldn't risk leaving Dean completely unprotected._

"_Dad?" A small voice came from across the room and John lifted his head to look at his youngest._

"_Yeah Sammy?" He replied as Sam shuffled into a seated position and yawned._

"_What you doing?"_

"_Just thinking…" He stood up slowly, making his way towards the beds and taking a seat on the edge of Sam's._

"'_Bout Dean?" Sam glanced over at his still sleeping brother, a knot tightening in his stomach. He knew his brother and father were hiding something from him and he hated secrets so much… he hated being the one left in the dark._

_John followed Sam's gaze and rubbed a hand across his face. He'd promise Dean that he wouldn't tell Sam what had happened and if he was honest, he didn't want his youngest dragged down by worry as well, "He'll be fine Sam. It's just a few scratches."_

_Sam was silent for a moment, contemplating. He hadn't expected his Dad to just suddenly tell him everything but he had hoped. "He's barely moved… he said he was just tired."_

"_Probably is Sam, he had a rough night last night."_

"_But it's over right? We can move on now?" Sam was looking at his father again, his eyes pleading and John wished he could give in to those eyes, wished it was all over._

"_Not yet." He managed to control his voice enough so it didn't betray him, didn't let Sam know how terrified he was._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

"Son of bitch!" Dean practically screamed when he got off the phone. And then his covers were thrown off and he was stalking towards the bathroom before Sam got a chance to get over the shock.

"What was that about?"

"Stuart's missing and it sounds like Halloway is in town." Dean said, closing the door behind him and then reopening it to grab his duffle of clothes, mind too preoccupied to stay fully focused on what he was doing.

"Wait, Halloway as in the guy from…" Sam paused, shaking his head in disbelief before jumping out of bed and stopping Dean from closing the bathroom door again, "How can you be sure?"

"Trust me on this Sam." Dean answered, pulling the door away from Sam, "And start getting ready. We're leaving here in an hour."

And with that he closed the door, the sound of running water coming soon after.

Sam stared at the door for a moment or two before grabbing his own duffle ready for when Dean was finished. He hated it when hunts got personal, and sure this one had been personal to begin with but now it had just gotten a whole lot worse. Dean always had a habit of letting things get to him, even if he denied it. And he was always extra protective over two main things, family and children… three if you included his precious Impala, though to Dean it probably fell under the family category.

If Dean was certain Halloway was here, then Sam had no reason to doubt him. Given what Dean had already told him about the other hunter, he knew that Halloway was in no way above using Stuart as bait especially after using Dean. But Stuart had the amulet… surely he'd be fine. That's if Halloway didn't know about what it was for and somehow he doubted that. Halloway probably knew exactly what it was.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"Damn it." Dean cursed the whole time he was getting ready, his mind going over everything.

It couldn't be a coincidence. Halloway just happened to turn up in the same town as this thing? Again? He just couldn't believe Halloway was still hunting this thing. Dean wouldn't have put it past Halloway to have been waiting for the day it crawled back out of Hell.

And now Stuart? The kid was thirteen! He was an innocent bystander! Surely Halloway knew when to draw the line… using Dean was one thing but the kid?

"Damn it!" He growled again, climbing into the shower.

The water pounded his skin, teasing at the knots and kinks in his toned body. He lowered his head and placed a hand against the wall, just letting the water wash over him, and stayed like that for a minute. He found himself swallowing against a hard lump in his throat, forcing back the fear that somewhere outside the room the thing was there waiting for him and if it wasn't, it was waiting for Stuart instead.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_Dean was twisting and turning all over the place, his eyes moved rapidly beneath their lids, scrunching up every now and then. His heart beat erratically and then he woke, the cold sweat covering him, his breathing laboured as he tried to focus on the land of the awake. He couldn't remember the last time he had a nightmare, or at least the last time it had been so bad. _

_He took in the room with a quick glance and pulled himself up from under the sheets, heaving a thankful sigh. He was safe. Now in a state of wakefulness, he could barely remember the dream but he remembered the underlying fear that had radiated throughout him, and the claws… the claws were hard to forget. He still felt himself shivering internally. _

"_How you feeling kiddo?" His father asked him from across the room. He was watching him carefully; Dean guessed he probably had been for awhile now. _

"_I'm great." He answered, his voice thick with sarcasm as he winced, the stitches pulling slightly every time he moved. His eyes found their way to his brother's empty bed, the sheets cast aside in a messy manner, "Where's Sam?"_

"_He's in the bathroom." John was still watching him, studying him in the half light. The deathly silence of the early hours made everything seem even eerier, their voices holding a echo behind each word._

_Swinging his legs out from under the sheets, Dean pushed himself up. His vision blurred, going white at the edges but the back of his legs found the edge of the bed and he sat back down before the dizzy spell had a chance to get worse._

"_You okay?"_

"_Dude, I'm fine." He lied easily, trying his best not to let on how much he wanted to just lie back down or run to the bathroom and throw up._

"_Don't dude me!" John reprimanded immediately, standing up from his position at the table and walking over to stand in front of Dean, arms crossed and face stormy, "You're not fine."_

"_I'm just hungry… that's all. Can't 'memba last time I ate actually…" Dean dodged the underlying accusation, adding a 'sir' on the end as an afterthought._

"_You sure?" John watched his son carefully, looking him up and down. He wanted to believe him, after all he knew what Dean was saying was the truth, the kid had barely touched any food at the hospital and John hadn't stopped to see if his sons ate anything before going off in search of lamb's blood. But Dean's pale complexion and red eyes made John worry all the same. "Get yourself ready when Sam's finished in the bathroom and we'll go out for breakfast."_

_Dean nodded, glancing up at the bathroom door as it opened and Sam emerged, shaggy hair still damp as droplets of water trickled from the ends to coat his features._

_The youngest immediately looked from his father to Dean, eying Dean suspiciously before taking in the time on the clock, "What you doin' up? It's not dinnertime yet."_

_Dean scowled at his brother. Sam was going to have to pay the price for a remark like that. "Heard horrible noises from the shower… like dying cats. Realised it was you singing."_

"_Was not!" Sam denied, but his face reddened and he looked towards his dad, pleading with him to back him up._

"_Yeah, you were. One of those Disney songs… which part were you singing this time? Snow White? Cinderella?" Dean carried on, pushing himself up from the bed again, this time prepared for any dizziness. Striding towards the bathroom, he called towards the still red faced Sam, "I swear, you better have left some hot water."_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

It was three hours later and the brothers were loaded up with coffee, a take away lunch and, in Dean's case, a really short fuse. They were staking out the industrial park and looking for any signs of Halloway or Stuart. Sam was watching Dean as the fury continued to grow inside of the eldest Winchester; he didn't dare speak for fear of saying the wrong thing.

From the corner of his eye he saw a blue smudge and when Dean tore unexpectedly from the Impala, Sam looked towards it, taking in the blue Ford pulling up less than fifteen feet away from the Impala. His guts told him that it was Halloway and his heart hammered as he noticed that the hunter was alone in the car.

As he pulled himself from the Impala, two thoughts flew through his head. Either they had been wrong about Stuart being with Halloway, or the guy had done something to him.

Dean was right next to the Ford before Halloway even had the door fully open. But he didn't care, ripping the door open the rest of the way and dragging the hunter from the car and up against the frame. His voice was a low vicious growl, "Where is he?"

Halloway still looked the same to Dean, a little older sure, but he still had that same cocky smirk plastered on his face and those cold eyes that made you think he was hiding something. He didn't say anything, his eyes just travelled over Dean as if he was thinking the same thing, seeing how much Dean had changed since the time they'd met.

"Where is he?" Dean demanded again, pulling Halloway away from the frame only to slam him against it harder.

Worming a hand free, Halloway reached into his inner coat pocket, pulling out the amulet to dangle in front of Dean, "I think you better let me go."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	12. The Song Remains the Same

.-.-.-.** Primoris Filius**.-.-.-.

Summary: Everything has a story - every scar, every tear, every weapon, every amulet... So when the boys come across a new hunt with a familiar M.O. a valuable piece of jewellery might be needed to protect an innocent life once again. Takes place in both the present and the past... Deancentric (when aren't my stories?)

Disclaimer: Already said it… :P

Warnings: Typical bad language that you expect from the Winchesters, particularly Dean… Decided to set this after Season 2 but before Season 3… guess I wanted that extra angst factor!!

And a new update! Thank you so much for reading and for the reviews!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

12. The Song Remains the Same

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_The last thing John wanted was for them to be sitting down to breakfast and Halloway to sidle his way into the booth with them, a bright smile on his face as if nothing had happened. He was fuming, and nodded at Dean for him to take his brother elsewhere for a moment whilst he had a private word with Halloway._

_Although he didn't want to admit it, Dean was thankful. He didn't feel comfortable being anywhere near Halloway, he felt himself shiver whenever he thought of the guy. He was just… off. "Come on Sam; let's go ask for a refill." He nudged his brother gently as he tried to move from the booth._

_Without warning, Halloway's leg shot up, blocking Dean's exit. He sat like that for a moment, as if daring Dean to tell his father but the eldest son just glared at him. Smiling and winking, Halloway dropped the leg, "Only playing Deano."_

"_Come on Sam." Dean repeated, climbing from the booth and looking back towards his brother._

_Sam opened his mouth to argue, especially after glancing at his nearly full glass, but shut it almost immediately when he saw his father's serious look. He quickly scooted from the booth and followed his brother over to the counter without looking back._

"_Dad doesn't like him… does he?" Sam asked, shoving his hands into his pocket as he stared at the ground._

"_Dad doesn't like a lot of people Sam… this guy's just a certain kind of prick that's really rare to find." Dean sighed, coming up to the counter and looking back towards the booth for a moment, "So no… Dad doesn't like him."_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

"_What do you want Halloway?" _

"_Just wanted to check up on you and your boys… make sure Dean's alright and on the road to recovery. How is he? He looks better." Halloway climbed out of the booth only to slide into the opposite seat so he was now facing John._

"_You stay the hell away from both of them." John growled; his fists so tight that he was surprised it didn't hurt him._

"_You're forgetting I saved Dean's life." Halloway sounded offended, huffing and rolling his eyes_

"_You're the reason he nearly died in the first place."_

"_Couldn't be helped I'm afraid. I didn't expect it to be immune to normal hunting weapons. But now we know for the next time."_

"_Next time? Next time I'm gonna hunt this thing myself and kill it as many ways as I can just to be sure it's dead and then I'm coming for yo-" _

_John's angry threat was cut off by the low hum of the phone in his pocket and if he hadn't been expecting a call he would have ignored the annoying sound or just cut it off. But he delved into his pocket and pulled the small brick out, answering with a gruff and frustrated 'what'._

"_John, I got some news." Jim's voice echoed down the line._

_His brow furrowed for a moment, surprise taking hold of him, "That was quick."_

"_Yeah well, tends to be when you know where to look."_

"_What have you got then?" He turned to the side, so he was looking out at his sons but so the phone was away from Halloway who had fallen silent, listening carefully to every word and murmur._

"_I think you're dealing with the Pharaoh's Son."_

"_The Pharaoh's what?"_

"_Son." Jim reiterated, "First born son to be exact. Ringing any bells? I mean, I know you're not the church type John, but you remember the ten plagues, right? More specifically the tenth?"_

"_You're saying… that's what this thing is?" John shook his head in disbelief, "Would explain the M/O."_

"_Dean isn't gonna be safe. So far I've had about as much luck of finding a way to kill this thing as you've had trying to get Sam to get a haircut. I talked to a friend though, they told me about a form of protection that given a day… maybe half if I'm good… I might be able to track it down."_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

He didn't do as Halloway told him, not at first. He doubted even Sam could have forced his arms away because his hands were locked to Halloway's collar. His eyes were focused on the amulet as he watched it sway in the gentle breeze and when the realisation of what this meant hit him, he lost control. Pulling Halloway towards him once more, he swung his right side backwards and threw Halloway towards the dirt between the cars.

He didn't even allow the older hunter to recover as he laced his left hand into the collar once more and let his right fist fly, connecting hard with Halloway's jaw. The only thing that stopped him from sending another punch in the same direction was Sam catching his hand and gently coaxing him to let go.

"That's not gonna do any good Dean. You can kill him after we find Stuart." Sam reasoned, pulling Dean back away from Halloway.

"Where is he?!" Dean demanded once more and Sam tightened his grip, barely able to hang onto his angry brother.

"He's hold up somewhere." Halloway replied, rubbing his jaw and spitting blood onto the ground, "And if you think I'm gonna tell you where then you're even more stupid than I remember."

"And you took the amulet from him for what? For kicks? He's completely vulnerable! He doesn't know how to defend himself."

"Bah! I left him with a gun… point and shoot. That's all he needs to remember."

"Oh yeah, because a gun did me a whole lot use when _I_ was younger!"

Sam was literally in between his brother and Halloway now, it was the only way he could stop Dean from getting close enough to do anything he might regret later.

"Then we better get hunting this thing before it hunts Stuart." Halloway taunted, knowing that he had all the cards and that the only way they would find Stuart would be to cooperate with him, "Believe me, if I thought you would do as bait… I'd probably change my mind."

Sam froze, his body going cold. Using people as bait was nothing to this guy; he'd do it in a heartbeat if it meant catching his prey. He couldn't believe someone could be so heartless as to only care about the hunt and the kill and not about the people involved and the possible victims. He swallowed hard and looked at Halloway, studying him. He could tell that the guy was goading his brother; backing him into a corner… he knew exactly what he was saying and what reaction he would get.

Dean scoffed, pointing towards the scratches on his face from the previous night, "I didn't exactly do this shaving… if you catch my drift. You're the one who first said that when this thing wants you dead, it'll do everything it can to rip you apart."

Halloway shrugged, "Yeah, see that's true but right now you're not the only one who got away anymore."

"I'm not gonna let you use him."

"Of course you're not." Halloway grinned brightly, something akin to triumph on his features, "I'm gonna use you."

Whatever retort Dean had was stopped as his mouth hung slack in surprise. Out of all the things he'd been expecting Halloway to say, that wasn't one of them. From the look on Sam's face though, he _had_ been expecting it and Dean could tell the only reason Sam didn't react more to it was that he had been prepared.

"Your reputation precedes you Winchester. Your inability to put yourself first… You're such a self-sacrificing bastard aren't you?"

"Shut your mouth." Sam warned, pushing himself further between the two hunters, watching Halloway closely as the hunter moved back a bit to stand a little straighter.

"Wow, ain't you a John Winchester in the making?" Halloway laughed before glancing off to the side impatiently, "Well, as fun as this little reunion is… I think we all know we've got work to do and personally I've been waiting a long time to see this son of a bitch dead, I don't feel like waiting much longer."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_John nodded numbly, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat, "Thanks Jim."_

"_One more thing John…" Jim started, pausing for his friend to reply, knowing that he needed John's full attention._

"_And what's that?"_

"_This guy you've been working with… Patrick Halloway, right? I did some checking and, well…" He hesitated for moment, taking a breath before continuing, "You know how much you wanna kill that thing that killed Mary? Well, that's how badly Halloway wants to see this thing dead. It killed his brother, tore him apart right in front of him."_

_John's head turned slowly, his eyes locking with Halloway's. "You sure about that?"_

"_Everything fits John. He's a rogue hunter, dangerous… focused only on killing that thing. Nothing's gonna stop him… He doesn't care how he does it, just so long as he does it."_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	13. Black Sunshine

.-.-.-.** Primoris Filius**.-.-.-.

Summary: Everything has a story - every scar, every tear, every weapon, every amulet... So when the boys come across a new hunt with a familiar M.O. a valuable piece of jewellery might be needed to protect an innocent life once again. Takes place in both the present and the past... Deancentric (when aren't my stories?)

Disclaimer: Already said it… :P

Warnings: Typical bad language that you expect from the Winchesters, particularly Dean… Decided to set this after Season 2 but before Season 3… guess I wanted that extra angst factor!!

Murder! Bloody murder! That's what this was to write… but I've finally gotten it to a point that I feel comfortable leaving it at until the next chapter :D Anyway, thank you for your wonderful patience, it really means so much especially since I know how bad I am with updates for this story.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

13. Black Sunshine

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

Halloway wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, smudging the droplets of blood that lingered on his lips. He watched the brothers carefully, moving around them and towards his car but Dean's body blocked his way to the driver's door as the eldest refused to move from the spot. "We gonna do this stand off all night or we gonna hunt?"

"Enough games." Dean growled in reply, turning to face Halloway fully but still not letting him pass.

"But we've only just begun." Halloway pouted, folding his arms across his chest.

"Screw you Halloway. You want us, you got us. Just give the amulet back to Stuart."

"Only really need you but Sam can come along for the ride too. As for Stuart… I need insurance so you just better start praying this thing wants you more than him."

Dean was already about to strike out once more at the older hunter, his arm lifting and fist forming. But Sam gripped his upper arm tightly, warning him wordlessly as he forced it back down to Dean's side. Halloway nodded as if agreeing it was the right move to make, though the longer the rogue hunter stood there the more Sam felt the urge to start throwing his own punches.

"What's the game plan?" He asked as he released his hold on Dean a little but not completely.

"Was kinda thinking we should set up camp somewhere with an open space for Deano… then we wait." Halloway shrugged as he spoke.

"And wait for it to kill me? Yeah, of course. Why didn't we come up with something like that?"

"Ten years Dean. Ten years since your Daddy sent this thing packing on a temporary trip to hell… So what… you think it's out of sight out of mind with me? You knew it wouldn't stay there, we both knew. So I went and scored myself a golden tipped bullhorn, ready and waiting for the day this son of bitch came back."

"You want an applause for that little speech? Or can we just get this over with?" Dean ground out, feeling as Sam's hand twitched against his arm. The same thought washing over both of them. They had the weapon within grasp, if Halloway was telling the truth that is, they would have a way to kill the creature and as much as they hated the idea of hunting with Halloway, they could use him just as much as he was using them.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

"_How long you been hunting this thing Halloway?" John asked, as he came off the phone, voice even and hackles raised, watching the hunter across from him for any signs of lying._

_Halloway hesitated, debating on whether to tell the elder hunter the truth whilst making sure to keep eye contact as they tried to stare each other down. He took a breath, "Three years. And I'm guessing you know the other details."_

"_If you'd come clean-"_

"_If I'd come clean from the get go you would have never even agreed to meet me in the first place. I'm not sorry for what I did, and I'd do it again. I'm not gonna rest until this thing is dead by my hand." Halloway interrupted, finally turning away, his gaze falling on Sam and Dean as they sat at the counter._

"_You really are just a sadistic twisted son of a bitch. My son Halloway, you used my son as bait… you're lucky you're even breathing right now." John reached over and grabbed Halloway's shirt collar, twisting him back round so he was no longer looking at the brothers._

_Halloway yawned as John let go, feigning boredom and rolling his eyes, "And you're lucky this thing doesn't like the daylight else… well, this wouldn't be the safest place for Dean now would it?"_

_John narrowed his eyes at Halloway, his lips turning into a snarl as he leaned forward across the table and spoke low but threateningly, "You stay away from my sons. Both of them."_

"_Did I touch a nerve there? Sounds like I touched a nerve."_

"_Dean, Sam, get your stuff. We're going." John called out, ignoring Halloway and pulling himself from his seat, determined to keep the other hunter as far away from his sons as he could._

"_But Dad…" It was the type of thing he was used to hearing from Sam all the time, but this time his youngest remained quiet, the objection coming from Dean instead._

_John sighed, guts twisting from guilt, "We'll get it to go." He relented, feeling Halloway's eyes on him but knowing that if they didn't get something to eat now then he didn't know where else they'd get food from that early._

_It didn't take long for the food to come, but Halloway sat there watching and waiting the whole time. John half expected the other hunter to follow them out when they eventually left and was thankful when he didn't. Sam was in the back seat sipping at his coke through a straw whilst staring at the scenery rushing by. However daydreamy he looked though, John could tell he was listening and observing what was going on up front as Dean sat shotgun, fidgeting with the paper cup in his hands as he stayed quiet… stony and silent._

"_Dean?" John finally asked; taking note of the change in Dean's behaviour since Halloway had turned up. He was closed off, a little distant, like a guarded animal wanting to just get away. "You okay?"_

"_Huh?" Dean said as he looked up from the paper cup._

"_You okay?" John reiterated, Sam stilling on the backseat as he listened in._

"_Yeah, I'm fine…" Dean answered, hesitating for moment before adding, "I just don't like that guy."_

"_Me neither." He reluctantly admitted in return, turning his attention back to the road, "But soon as we get this job done, we shouldn't be seeing him again."_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

The place they had chosen was a mix between a small warehouse and even smaller office building, consisting of a semi-large open space and several side rooms filled with boxes and old left over computers. Dean strode on ahead of his brother and Halloway, glowering and swearing under his breath.

Several feet behind him, Sam's eyes darted in every which direction. He felt uneasy about the whole thing but they were being held over a barrel. His gaze landed on the bag slung over Halloway's shoulder, just the right size to hold their weapon of choice or so Halloway claimed. After the phone call from Bobby shortly before entering the building though, he had little doubt left in his mind.

The older hunter had informed him of several bullhorns matching Sam's requirements and also of one being stolen by a Mr Patrick Halloway. Before hanging up though, he'd managed to slip in that Dean was a complete idiot and warned Sam to keep a close eye on him and an even closer eye on the amulet.

"This seems as good a place as any." Halloway announced, stopping dead and looking around him.

Sam opened his mouth to reply as he narrowed his eyes at the older hunter, his words getting cut short though when Dean called out, agitation colouring his voice, "Come on you freaky bastard! You know you want me!"

"That's one way to get the things attention…" Halloway mumbled as he reached into the small bag and pulled out the horn, turning it in his hands and moving towards the shadows to wait.

"I really think Dean should be the one with that." Sam replied, following the hunter but keeping his eyes on the weapon resting firmly in Halloway's grasp.

"Yeah, and I don't want it out of my sight. Besides, I'm gonna be the one to kill this thing."

Sam growled under his breath, lip quirking into a snarl as he tried to keep his anger under control. He let his gaze fall onto his brother at the far end of the warehouse, watching as he continued walking, oblivious to the fact that the other two had stopped. He had nearly reached the wall when he stopped and turned his head a little, Sam could see him tensing up.

"Sam!" He called out, setting off at a sprint towards an open door, "It's here!"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_Once back in the motel room, Sam was bouncing onto his bed with his bag of food and crossing his legs as he opened it up and dug in. He watched from the sidelines as his father paced the room after eating barely half of his breakfast, making phone call after phone call whilst Dean hovered in the background._

"_You sure?" His father asked, barely stopping the rawness from coming through, "And how long will that take?"_

_The eldest Winchester scrubbed a hand across his face and sighed, "Just let me know when you've got it… I want this son of a bitch taken care of sooner rather than later."_

"_Dad?" Dean enquired, curiosity getting the better of him as his father put the phone back on the table and slumped forward in his seat._

_John looked up; features tired and desperate. His eyes took the whole of his son in, a bruise barely visible from his hairline, the pained expression in the hazel orbs staring back at him as he pretended the wounds didn't hurt. His heart clenched with guilt as he realised both his sons were going to go through even more pain but what scared him the most was how Dean refused to complain, refused to back down no matter how much it hurt him._

"_Dad…" Dean verbally prodded, his brow creasing into a frown, "What they say?"_

_John blinked and looked down at the phone mere inches from his hand, "Gonna check up on a few leads… he said he thinks he knows of an incantation that'll send the thing packing back to Hell."_

"_That's a good thing right?" Dean asked brightly, sensing his father's hesitation._

"_Not as good as killing it…" John heaved another weary sigh and watched his son once more. Caleb had also mentioned a possible weapon that could kill the creature but John just knew they didn't have time to track a bull's horn down. He couldn't risk it getting to Dean in the meantime; he could barely look his sons in the eye as it was without more guilt thrown in._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	14. Gonna Getcha Good

.-.-.-.** Primoris Filius**.-.-.-.

Summary: Everything has a story - every scar, every tear, every weapon, every amulet... So when the boys come across a new hunt with a familiar M.O. a valuable piece of jewellery might be needed to protect an innocent life once again. Takes place in both the present and the past... Deancentric (when aren't my stories?)

Disclaimer: Already said it… :P

Warnings: Typical bad language that you expect from the Winchesters, particularly Dean… Decided to set this after Season 2 but before Season 3… guess I wanted that extra angst factor!!

Okay, due to the delay in updating, I felt it only fair that I gave you a nice longish (by my standards) chapter. This will be the penultimate chapter and I'm hoping the get the last chapter done pretty quickly. I was gonna make this one the last chapter but decided to split it up. Hope you enjoy! Thank you so much for reading!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

14. Gonna Getcha Good

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_It was late afternoon, practically evening by the time Caleb called back. Sam was curled up in a ball on one of the beds fast asleep and Dean was snoozing on the couch. As soon as the phone started to buzz, John's hand shot out to grab it, pressing the answer button immediately and bringing it up to his ear._

"_Yeah?" John answered, his heartbeat suddenly increasing as he waited in anticipation._

"_You want the bad news, or the bad news?" Caleb asked, his voice holding back the emotion he felt inside. He liked the Winchesters, he really did. And they didn't deserve nearly half the bad luck that they got._

"_Just tell me."_

"_I don't know if it's gonna work John. I got a whole bunch of hear'say and theories and all the kinda crap that crops up without actually saying that this is the way to go… for all I know, it could be useless. Same goes for the bullhorn… and even if I _knew_ that was gonna work, I'm guessing you've already worked out that it's not exactly the type of thing they sell on market day…"_

"_So what you saying Caleb?"_

"_I'm saying if you're willing to try it, I got the incantation here… otherwise you're screwed." _

_John paused, thinking for a moment before nodding and swallowing the lump in his throat, "Give it to me."_

"_You got a pen and paper?"_

_The elder hunter reached across the table and dragged the nearest blank piece of paper towards him, switching the phone to his other ear so he could use his writing hand. In terms of length, it was average compared to the other incantations he'd used in the past, though he had been hoping for something a little shorter. He just wanted it to be over with as quick as possible, get in, get out, get gone…_

_He glanced at his sleeping boys and gave Caleb a quick thanks down the phone before hanging up. Crumpling the paper up, he shoved it deep into his pocket and moved over to his weapons duffle, searching for a gun but more preferably some holy water. If things worked out, he could be at the building they'd seen the creature in within an hour and if he was lucky, he could have it trapped and sent packing before either of his boys even woke._

_As an afterthought, he grabbed a book he'd borrowed from Bobby out of the duffle and flicked through the pages before landing on the one he needed. Grabbing his journal from the bed, he quickly scribbled down the circular symbol he'd come to know so well._

_He never noticed his eldest wake as he left the room, or saw him opening the motel door in confusion as John started the truck and peeled from the car park, mind solely on getting that creature before it could get Dean._

"_Dad?" Dean questioned the now empty car park, staring at the disappearing truck._

_He took a step forward, the cold air coming to meet him as the wind ruffled his hair and clothes. He shivered against it, his bare feet catching the chill the most as he crossed his arm in a vain attempt to protect himself against the element. The shuffling of trees off to the side caught his attention and his eyes flicked towards it as he watched the leaves shake a little before calming again._

_He was already dismissing the movement as a stray dog or wild animal when the familiar features of the creature emerged as it sprang towards him, lunging in an attempt to grab the middle Winchester. _

"_Holy mother fu-" Dean cursed, falling backwards into the room before scrambling to his feet once again and slamming the door just in time to hear the creature slam up against it._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

Dean had barely seen the shadow moving swiftly passed the open doorway but he recognised it immediately if only by the _way_ it moved. Even as he called out and set off chasing after it, he knew it was leading him away but he couldn't risk the chance of it getting to Stuart first. He skidded out into the twilight, turning the corner a little too quickly causing him to nearly slide over but he recovered just as quickly and was racing forwards once more.

He ran a further ten feet before he slowed, head snapping back and forth as he searched the grounds. A flick of light off to the right and he was off again, turning another corner and then another before hitting a dead end. A rattle behind him made him spin on the spot and he cursed himself for falling for its tricks, praying that Sam had seen which way he'd gone.

"Heya buddy." He snarled; flexing his fingers as his body tensed up. He stared into the dark cold eyes of the creature as it watched him hungrily. The thought of being trapped alone with this thing made him feel eighteen all over again but he drew in a deep calming breath and smirked at it, cocky and full of false bravado, "You been looking for me?"

The Pharaoh's Son bared its teeth at him, body itching in anticipation and a sickly smile spreading across its own features as the eyes fell onto Dean's chest. It cried out in delight, sounding like nails on a chalkboard, as it noticed the absence of the amulet. It took a step forward slowly, savouring the taste of fear on the air.

Reaching into his jacket, Dean felt his hand wrap around the cool silver of the flask tucked neatly away. He unscrewed the lid between his thumb and forefinger, keeping the weapon hidden until the creature was just a little closer. _Wait for it… wait for it._ He told himself, stiffening up as he determinedly kept his eyes on the thing in front of him as he watched its movements, waiting for it to lunge.

As soon as it did, he brought the flask up, dousing the creature in holy water. It reeled back, long nails slashing out at him and digging into his abdomen just enough to draw blood. He threw himself forwards and passed the creature, glancing back just in time to see it recovering enough to start chasing after him.

It was pissed, it had to be and Dean grinned as he thought about how much that creature must hate him for avoiding it so long. "I'm freaking Houdini." He snarked; chancing a quick glance behind him.

He came to an immediate stand still though when he couldn't see the creature, heart racing and breathing coming hard as he stared into the shadows for any sign.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Sam's first reaction was to curse out loud as he saw Dean disappear, he called out after him but as he set off at a run, he already knew Dean wouldn't have heard him, too intent on catching the creature. He rounded the corner, eyes searching his surroundings for his brother but Dean seemed long gone.

"Damn it Dean!" He shouted, spinning around on the spot, head turning from side to side as he searched, "Where the hell did you go?"

"Just great." Halloway moaned as he joined Sam outside, lip turning into a vicious snarl and he pushed himself forward a few steps, knocking Sam in the process, "Where is he?"

"If I knew that d'ya really think I'd be standing here?"

Halloway turned to growl at him before moving forwards once more, searching for the creature and the eldest Winchester, "Way I see it, you Winchester's are just full of surprises."

"Well I'm sure Dean will be able to die happy once I tell him you said so." Sam retorted, heart suddenly clenching as his mind repeated the words, once again reminding him of Dean's impending fate. Guilt ran through his system, directed at his use of the word.

"I'm sure he will." Halloway smiled maliciously, "He can't have much longer left now, right?"

The words felt like a punch to the gut and Sam tried his best to ignore them and pretend they didn't affect him, all the while wondering why every freaking demon and every freaking hunter had their eyes on the Winchesters. It was freaky to say the least, and made Sam's skin tingle unpleasantly as he wondered just how they knew so much about them, about Sam's powers, about Dean's deal…

He followed Halloway forward, eyes occasionally landing on the bullhorn that the elder hunter still twirled impatiently in his hands. He was itching to just grab it and run but he knew better than that, especially as the hunter also carried a loaded weapon and probably wouldn't even flinch at the thought of shooting Sam.

It didn't take much longer before he saw Dean running out of the shadows and a sigh of relief passed his lips. He saw his brother glance behind him and come to a stand still, he also saw something else emerging from the shadows behind Dean and his jaw clenched as he watched the Pharaoh's son moving in on his brother.

"Dean!" He screamed, "Look out!"

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_Dean was pressed up against the door as the thing pounded on the wooden frame threatening to break it down and hissing every time its skin touched the lamb's blood. He knew theoretically that the blood should keep it out but as he felt each bump coming through the door, he swallowed hard, fear keeping him locked against it. His eyes landed on his brother as the youngest rolled over on the bed and uncurled himself, groaning and stretching out, threatening to wake up any minute. _

"_Damn it Sammy…" He growled, "Please stay asleep… please just stay asleep."_

_Sam's eyelids fluttered and his mouth opened into a lazy yawn but he didn't wake. Dean held his breath and squeezed his eyes closed tightly as he prayed to whoever was listening to get them out of this thing alive. _

_If the creature kept banging at the door like it was, it would wake someone up and Dean cursed as he thought about where that would leave him and Sam. He could imagine someone coming up to the room, and on seeing the bloodstained door, they'd come tearing in and would promptly kick Sam and Dean out, leaving them vulnerable._

"_Shut up.. shut up, shut up, shut up." He muttered, anger colouring each word as he said them with more force each time he repeated them._

_His eyes flew open when it seemed as if the creature had listened to him and he remained still for a moment or two, waiting for more banging. When it didn't come, his eyes searched the room for some sort of weapon, curiosity taking hold as he saw the open book on the table. Stepping forward, he paused, listening before taking another step and another until he was staring at the book._

_It was a circular symbol he'd seen his Dad staring at quite a few times, he'd called it some kind of trap and Dean couldn't help but ponder if it being open meant his Dad thought it would trap the creature. He rummaged through his Dad's duffle, sighing wearily when he couldn't find any spray paint that he knew was normally there. A second idea hit him as he went to his own bag and grabbed a thick black marker from it, one that Sam was pretty familiar with by now. _

_He wasn't sure if it would work but he grabbed the book and was down on his knees in front of the door within seconds, trying his best to copy the symbols accurately and praying that he didn't make any mistakes._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_John was driving as fast as he could, focusing so much on the road ahead that he barely noticed the blue Ford travelling in the opposite direction. He watched it in the mirror for a moment, trying to decide whether to give chase or just get on with the job. But his sons were in that direction…_

"_Damn it Halloway, what are you doing?" He growled, making a u-turn and speeding after the Ford in an attempt to catch up._

_As soon as he made out the rear lights, he pushed a little harder, checking for anymore cars on the road. He was thankful when he failed to see any and swerved over onto the opposite lane to line himself up next to the Ford. Halloway glanced out his window at him and for a second, John thought he was going to tear away but instead, he saw the car slow and pull off to the side._

_When parking the truck, he pulled in as close to the Ford as he dared, blocking Halloway so he couldn't just quickly pull away before John had a chance to question him. He climbed out the truck and ripped open Halloway's door, dragging him out by the collar._

"_Where are you going?" He demanded._

"_Wanted to check on Dean."_

"_I told you to stay the hell away."_

"_Actually, you never mentioned anything about Hell." Halloway snarked, smile fading slightly in the presence of the much bigger man._

"_Well I'm saying it now." John growled at him, getting right up in his face in his attempt to intimidate the guy._

"_Someone's gotta be there with him… its dinner time John-boy and my guess, this thing's pretty hungry." _

"_Dean knows to stay inside and the lamb's blood…" John started, narrowing his eyes at the other hunter._

"…_will only hold for so long until it figures out another way to get in."_

_John froze, his whole body going icy cold before flushing with red hot anger, "What?"_

"_It's a pretty resourceful creature John… been alive long enough to pick up a few tricks."_

_That was all John needed to hear before he threw a fist at Halloway, knocking the hunter back against his car before he was rushing back towards his truck and racing to get back to the motel in time._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_He was just finishing up with the trap, drawing the last symbol when he heard a loud crash in the bathroom followed by the sounds of scrapings that made him loose his breath._

"_Oh crap…" He murmured, letting the marker drop to the ground as he jumped onto Sam's bed and pulled the youngest Winchester up to wake him from lazy dreams, "Come on Sammy, wakey wakey."_

"_Dean?" Sam groaned, "What's going on?"_

"_Time to get up kiddo." Dean said, trying to keep the panic out of his voice as his eyes darted towards the bathroom door, more noises coming from inside._

"_Is Dad mad?" Sam questioned, waking himself a little more and watching the door with Dean._

"_Probably just pissed I used all the hot water." He lied effortlessly as he pulled Sam to his feet and grabbed his trainers from under the bed. He shoved them onto Sam's lap, effectively telling him to put them on as he slid into his own pair._

_As Sam put the shoes on, he grabbed the knife concealed under his pillow and hid it from Sam's view as he was once again grabbing the youngest Winchester, this time pushing him towards the front door. He removed his hand from Sam's back only long enough to open the door, all the time his eyes going back towards the bathroom door._

"_Dean…?" Sam questioned, his half sleep keeping him only semi-lucid but he was awake enough to feel that something was wrong._

"_We're gonna do a test… you like tests…" He continued to lie quickly, still distracted by the noises, "We're gonna go hide and Dad has to find us… see how well we cover our tracks."_

"_It's cold out here though…"_

"_Running will keep us war-"_

_He was interrupted though as the bathroom door came crashing open though and the creature was standing there in all seven foot glory, staring at him and slowly stalking towards him. He pushed Sam forwards and forced the youngest into a run._

"_Run Sam!" He commanded, thankful that Sam obeyed and set off, "Head towards the office!"_

_But he was stopped from following his brother as his shirt snagged on the splintered doorframe and kept him held there as the thing advanced on him._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


	15. Novacaine

.-.-.-.** Primoris Filius**.-.-.-.

Summary: Everything has a story - every scar, every tear, every weapon, every amulet... So when the boys come across a new hunt with a familiar M.O. a valuable piece of jewellery might be needed to protect an innocent life once again. Takes place in both the present and the past... Deancentric (when aren't my stories?)

Disclaimer: Already said it… :P

Warnings: Typical bad language that you expect from the Winchesters, particularly Dean… Decided to set this after Season 2 but before Season 3… guess I wanted that extra angst factor!!

Last chapter! :O I'm as shocked as you. It's another long one by my standards and I really hope you enjoy. Thank you so much for reading and for your patience with my updating. I probably never would have managed to get it finished if it hadn't been for knowing there were people reading.

So thank you!!

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

15. Novacaine

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_He could hear it getting closer and he dragged hopelessly at the material of the top and tried to pull away. He felt it tear a little, but not enough for him to make his way to freedom. A quick glance in the direction Sam had ran and he was pleased the youngest was out of sight and therefore hopefully safe._

_He heard it growl, sticky hot breath touching the back of his neck as the creature loomed over him from behind. Slowly, Dean readjusted his grip on the knife and he spun around, unable to stop the sweeping motion as he plunged the knife into the things stomach. The whole while his mind was once again telling him to run as those black eyes stared down at him, far too close to his own._

_It hissed in pain and reeled backwards a step, a hand reaching out and barely catching Dean's shirt, forcing the middle Winchester back into the room with it. Whilst his entire body quaked with panic, somewhere at the back of his mind, he couldn't help but marvel at how the thing didn't fall out of the trap drawn on the floor._

_It was stuck._

_Of course the only problem was that with it holding onto his shirt, nails cutting through the material and tracing a sharp line across his skin, he was stuck there with it._

_He gasped when the wound on his shoulder shot waves of pain through his body as he bent it the wrong way in his struggle to get away. Blindly, he reached forward, hands wrapping around the knife sticking from the creature's belly. He thrust it upwards, the action eliciting a scream of pain from the creature and it let go of his shirt in an attempt to grab his hands instead._

_He let go quickly, stumbling back and tripping over his own feet to land on his ass just outside the doorway. The creature was shrieking at him, trying to lunge at him but the trap kept it locked within the circle of symbols._

"_Ha!" He grinned smugly, though quickly shuffling back some more when the creature made another lunge for him, head becoming increasingly dizzy._

_He was barely aware of the screeching of tyres in the car park and the slamming of a familiar car door. Latin words mixed inside his mind as his vision wavered and he felt himself falling backwards towards the ground, not making it all the way as someone grabbed him. His body and mind was too exhausted to figure out who that someone was as the strong hands grabbed his arms and lowered him gently, the Latin words still pouring from their lips._

_The pain was nearly overwhelming, the wounds from the other night reopening and crying out as his body refused to work anymore. It had done its job, had gotten him to safety until the cavalry arrived and now he just wanted to sleep for an eternity._

"_Dean!" The name woke him a little, bringing with it only a dim awareness, cold air biting at his skin as he tried to focus on the blurry face of his father staring down at him._

"_Dad?" He murmured, licking his lips and closing his eyes once more… too heavy to leave open._

"_Where's Sammy?" His father shook him a little, just a little to keep him awake for a moment longer._

Sammy?_ He thought to himself, brows knitting together as he tried to remember where Sam was, "Office.. I 'ink"_

_Any other questions his father had were lost as he slipped further into unconsciousness, welcoming it with open arms._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

He barely heard Sam call out behind him, so absorbed in watching the shadows in front. But he span quickly as soon as the words registered with his brain and swore at the sight in front of him. The creature grinned, slamming into him and pushing him to the ground, pinning him there.

He could see himself reflected in its eyes as he squirmed beneath it, unable to reach for his flask. It put a hand on his face, grabbing his jaw roughly as if to say 'I've got you now'. The nails dug in, blood seeping out and the hand moved down to his chest as the creature tried to get to his heart.

It didn't seem bothered about the two hunters coming up behind it, in fact it only became aggravated when Sam pulled out a gun and fired several shots in quick succession. That caused the beast to suddenly raise itself, dragging Dean up with it and holding him by the neck as it looked at the two intruders.

The message was clear, cliché and understood. Sam froze but Halloway was a different story. He continued forward and in reply the creature dug its nails into Dean's neck and Dean gagged, fearing they would go too deep. He gripped at the fingers and forced them away a little, only managing to roll out from the things grasp as Halloway barged into them, bullhorn raised ready to take aim.

He kicked himself away from the fray as Halloway tussled with the thing, rolling around the ground and constantly trying to gain the upper hand. When he finally managed to mount the Pharaoh's Son and raise the bullhorn, sharpened nails shot out, digging into his chest and a look of surprise passed over his features.

His mouth opened as he attempted to breathe, but the nails were too deep and blood spluttered over his lips as his arms fell limp and the creature pushed him easily away, turning its attention once more to Dean.

Wide eyes stared at the elder hunter; and Sam's heart skipped a beat as realisation dawned on him at how savage the beast was when you got in its way. The thing was already moving towards his brother, causing Sam to react quickly, diving forwards so he could reach the bullhorn before the creature reached Dean.

He wrestled with the bullhorn, pulling it away from Halloway, the elder hunter's breaths shallow and barely there at all. The creature was grabbing Dean's legs and pulling him closer when Sam had finally managed to stumble up with the horn. He didn't even think about what he was doing, acting on pure instinct as he leaped toward the creature, throwing himself into it and driving the bullhorn into it's torso as he wrapped his arms around it and pulled the thing away from his brother.

They fell to the side, the creature screeching in agony as Sam squeezed his arm out from underneath it and shuffled backwards. It thrashed and made one final attempt at reaching Dean but the elder brother was too fast and definitely not keen on being caught. He pushed himself back, watching as the Pharaoh's Son fell forwards causing the horn to dig deeper, a pool of dark crimson spreading slowly from the open wound.

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

_For the second time that week, Dean slowly began to wake, breathing harder than it should be and body aching so much that he just wanted to go back to where he had just been. He knew where he was without opening his eyes and he knew why. He'd reopened at least one wound that he knew of as a result of his conflict with the creature. _

_Sudden panic bit through him and his eyes flew open, his breath coming so quickly in time with his thudding heart that he nearly choked, had it not been for the sudden hand on his shoulder. He lifted his eyes to stare at his father's face and opened his mouth to speak, causing another coughing fit to break out._

"_Drink this." John spoke softly, grabbing a glass of water from the cabinet and helping his son up enough so he could drink._

_He drank slowly, pulling his mouth away as his throat eased. "Where is it?" He asked immediately, eyes searching the hospital room as if he expected it to jump out at him any second._

"_It's gone… one way trip to Hell." John replied, resting his hand once again on his son's shoulder as he added inside his mind, _I hope.

"_And Sam?" Dean blinked, trying to keep his eyes open; energy draining as his adrenaline ran low._

"_He's safe… One of the nurses is giving him a tour."_

_Dean nodded, allowing his eyes to close and letting his head drop back down onto the soft pillow beneath. He hadn't even realised he'd fallen asleep until he heard raised voices from just outside his room causing him to wake from his peaceful slumber. One of them was definitely his Dad and the other was just as familiar but out of place, only when the 'heated discussion' died down did he realise who the owner of that voice was._

_Walking into the room alone, Bobby Singer strode over to him and cocked his head to the side as he appraised the young man in front of him. He sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed, "How you feeling there kiddo?"_

"_Am fine." Dean replied, the lie coming out of his mouth in an almost effortless stumble, if hadn't been for the hiss of pain at the end that was._

_The elder hunter raised a sceptical eyebrow, "You sure 'bout that?"_

"_Mostly."_

"_Oh yeah… ye'r yer father's son alright." Bobby glanced back towards the door, waiting for John Winchester to come blasting through any second._

"_What you doing here Bobby?" Dean narrowed his eyes in confusion as he studied the elder hunter's behaviour._

"_Had a delivery to make… would 'ave sent it by mail but you Winchester's move around too damn much." _

_Dean half smiled at Bobby's attempt at humour, shaking his head a little as he relaxed, "That what the shouting match was about?"_

_Bobby stilled, tensing up at the question, "Me and yer Dad… we just disagree on a few things and we're both too stubborn to back down…"_

"_Tell me about it." With his eyes raised to the ceiling, he traced the outlines of the tiles, trying to lose himself in the mundane task but as the room door opened again; his gaze was drawn back down._

"_I guess I better be going then?" Bobby said, gently rising from the bed. There was a note of anger and bitterness in his voice and though he tried to hide it, Dean noticed the steely stare that the elder hunter sent towards his father, receiving one of his own in return._

"_Thank you Bobby." John replied, holding his head up high so that whilst he meant the words, they weren't an admittance of defeat for whatever they had been arguing about._

_Dean sighed. His father had that affect on people._

"_Take care kiddo." Bobby patted Dean's uninjured shoulder, smiling at him before wandering over to the door and passed John, only turning back long enough to say, "Look after them John."_

_John didn't reply; just breathed deeply before moving over to his son and pulling up a seat. He played with a small brown paper package in his hands and for the longest moment, Dean thought they were both just gonna stay like that, quiet and lost in their own thoughts._

"_Bobby brought this by… Pastor Jim said it'd protect you against the demon…" John started, the word demon lingering on his tongue like poison. It wasn't any ordinary demon but it was a demon none the less._

"_But you killed it…" Dean frowned, eyes falling onto the package._

"_No, just sent it away." John sighed, finally unwrapping the package to reveal a small golden coloured amulet attached to a worn leather cord. He stroked the amulet and pushed it gently with his forefinger, forcing it to roll over on the paper. Without explaining what he was doing, John lifted the cord and stood just enough so he could let it drop around his son's neck, the amulet falling into place against his son's bare chest. "Promise me you'll never take it off."_

"_Da-ad." Dean moaned, rolling his eyes and turning his head away._

"_Dean." His father warned and Dean's head snapped towards him, their eyes locking. He nodded; understanding it wasn't a request but an order._

_Dean looked away first, gaze dropping to the twisted bed covers and John's followed. They sat like that for several minutes before Dean finally plucked up the courage to ask the question burning in his mind, "You think it'll come back, don't you?"_

_John paused, opening his mouth and closing it again, several lies slipping between his thoughts before the honest truth slipped from his lips, "Yeah… I do."_

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Present Day

The brothers watched the bodies burn in the early morning light, hoping that it would be a while before anyone noticed the fire. They'd found Stuart shortly after the creature had been killed. He was shaken but unharmed. He wanted to know what happened to the other guy, so Dean told him the truth… moron got himself killed. That was all he said, pushing the kid into the car and driving him back to his house in silence and leaving Sam to prepare the bodies.

He didn't speak to the kid until he pulled up outside and Stuart was too nervous to get out the car, already fearing what his mother was going to say to him. Dean looked up at the house before letting his eyes land on the kid, small and for the most part, innocent.

"You're a lucky kid." Dean said eventually, "You got a chance a good life… so do me a favour and next time some stranger comes inviting you on some 'adventure'… tell him to go screw himself."

"I…" He started in reply, stopping himself before he got any further. He stared down at his hands, fidgeting nervously.

"You're sorry… yeah, I get that just don't freaking do it again." Dean growled, reaching over and opening the passenger door, "Now get your ass in that house and let your mom know you're okay before I change my mind and _drag_ your ass in there…"

By the time he got back, Sam had already started the fire and was holding a familiar object in his hands. Dean approached slowly, coming to stand beside his brother in silence. He looked out at the makeshift pyre, the body of Halloway and the creature burning side by side. They hadn't been able to do anything to help the elder hunter, he was truly and utterly screwed, no doubt about it. He had stopped breathing shortly after indicating which direction Stuart was in and for Dean that was enough.

"This is yours." Sam said, holding out the object in his hands.

Dean looked down at the amulet and heaving a heavy sigh, he took it from Sam and studied it. He opened his mouth to voice the thoughts running around his head, the questions about how such a small thing could ward off a creature like the Pharaoh's Son, but he closed it before they had chance to escape, leaving the words unsaid as he pulled the worn cord over his head and allowed the amulet to rest against his chest.

"Bobby said not to give it away so freely next time… especially when you still need it yourself." Sam went on, eyes focused on the fire ahead but mind wandering to the phone call with Bobby as he wondered if the elder hunter knew more than he was letting on.

"Demon's dead…" Dean replied simply, grasping the amulet in his hand, "Not like I need it so much now."

"I don't think Bobby agrees."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

_August 1997_

"_He's eighteen years old John! Is this really the life you want for him?" Bobby had whispered harshly in the corridor of the hospital after passing the packaged amulet over to John, "'Cause this ain't a life. He could have died! Twice in one week…"_

"_He's _my_ son. He wants to help… he wants to _hunt_; he could say 'no' if he didn't." John weakly defended himself._

"_No one gets to say no to the great John Winchester. Why would your son be any different?" Bobby turned away and looked through the frosted glass in the door that lead to Dean's room, "This won't be the last time one of you is targeted. The name Winchester is making its way quickly through the demonic grapevine and there's no stopping it now. You, Dean, Sammy… it's only gonna get worse."_

"_We'll survive. We always do." John ground out, staring at the back of his 'friends' head. _

"_The amulet… doesn't just protect against the guy you sent packing to Hell. Be pretty useless giving it to him now if that's all it did…"Bobby indicated the package in John's hands._

"_What are you saying?"_

"_I'm saying if you won't take your son out of the hunt, at least give him something that'll help protect him from the things that want him dead… he's gonna be a great hunter John… they both are. Probably the best… And that's gonna put them up there at the top of the most wanted list."_

_The words circled around in John's head long after the conversation with Bobby. He knew Bobby was right. He didn't want this life for either of his boys. Hell, he didn't want it for himself…. But someone had to do it. Someone had to kill the monsters and hunt the demons, someone had to save the damsel in distress… had to save the day._

_He stared out of his rear view mirror, watching as the town disappeared from view and the Winchesters moved on to the next. Sam was huffy and silent, moaning about being left in the dark and Dean was pretending he wasn't in pain, even though he obviously was. Halloway had skipped town without a word, and John knew it had been a wise decision on the younger hunter's part because they way he was feeling, if he ever saw the guy again, blood would be shed._

_And the words still circled around in John's head. He knew hunting was going to be the death of him, he'd figured that out a couple of years ago… realised the cold hard truth when he stared death right in the eye and said 'screw you' and made it back to the land of the living to tell the tale. And now, he was starting to fear that hunting would be the death of his sons too. _

_But there was no turning back now._

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.


End file.
